


Prayers Answered

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Attempted Rape/Non Con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Virginity, Mild Racism, Orphaned and Abandoned Children, Pilgrims and Natives, Semi Arranged Marriage, Thievery, Trials and Punishment, religion references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Lord almighty in heaven, please show me the plan you have for my life... may I be a bright light in the darkness, a blessing upon another soul. Show me what plan there is for me,"</i> Was the nightly prayer of a boy who survived the Mayflower voyage to the new world, he waited patiently for and answer, until the first harvest Plymouth Colony celebrated in the new land, when God showed him a girl, as broken and alone as he was, in need of a defender and a helping hand. </p><p>Loosely based on Historical accounts citing the voyage of the Mayflower and the pilgrims of Plymouth Colony. </p><p>D12D tumblr prompts #6 and #7: <b>Timeless</b> and <b>Stolen</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayers Answered

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** THG Characters, places, and certain quotes belong to the mind of Suzanne Collins. 
> 
> Loosely Based on the history of the Mayflower voyage to America in the 1600's, please know I'm not a historian myself, and there are bound to be historical inaccuracies in this tale. 
> 
> Watch out for: Mild racism. Underage marriage and smut. Arranged marriage. Allusions of various types of abuse. 
> 
> **Author's note and Warnings:** this story was originally written for the "Timeless Love" Everlark prompt, of d12d on tumblr, sadly, I missed the deadline for that week. As a stroke of luck, the prompt for the following week was "Stolen", and since the theme of thievery was already part of the original story, I decided to rework the plot to expand the "Stolen" theme of the week, which made the Drabble too long to still be considered a drabble. This will be posted into two halves, and unlike the entry submitted to D12D, which was rated T for lesser warnings, this version warrants a full E, for underage sexual content and other adult situations.
> 
> Now, keep in mind... The original Star-crossed lovers, Romeo & Juliet, were 19 and 14 respectively when they got married, consummated their marriage and died for their troubles. Fair warning! 
> 
> A few historical facts will be posted at the foot of the fic. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please review at the bottom, and thank you for reading.

"Heavenly Father above, let us see light of day. Let us find provision for our families on board the ship. Spare our young, and women, give us strength to continue the expedition. Save us from this harsh winter..."

The prayer continued falling from frostbitten lips, voice raw and unsteady little above a thin whisper, loud enough for the young dutch boy to hear it. The boy had no means to know who the speaker was, but he kept his ears fixed in the piteous plea, hoping that knowing another member of his party was still alive, would keep him tethered to the land of the living as well, no matter how cold, exposed and hungry they were out there.

Thirty four of them had left the scarce warmth of the ship to explore the frozen land, looking for a proper place for the Saints and Strangers aboard the Mayflower to finally settle; the rest of the would be colonists sat in the depths of the ship anchored on the shore of what seemed to be the coldest place on Earth.

The men in the recognizance party were ill dressed for such harsh weather, and to make matters worse, most of their clothing and shoes had gotten soak with sea water and freshly fallen snow as they landed on the beach. Half the party laid motionless across the open space, most likely dead, an older dutch boy- brother to the afore mentioned one- was counted amongst the ones already lost to the inclement temperatures. The group had failed to find adequate shelter before night fell, and now the last survivors huddled as closed together as they could, to preserve the small, precious body heat they still possessed between the lot.

Most of the men in the party tried to sleep, but the boy was scared to close his blue eyes at all, he prayed fervently his life was spared for he dreaded reports arriving to his ill father's ears, that the last of his family had perished as well. The boy made a promise to God, that he would live a righteous life, following the teachings of the Bible like the Saints did, if only he could still draw breath in the morning, and his father was spared the heartbreak of hearing another one of his sons was no more.

" _Dear God Almighty, grant me a miracle, if I find mercy before your eyes, bless me with life to be a blessing on this land in return,_ " The boy's trembling lips barely moved forming the words in his father's tongue, Dutch, the language of his hope, until his mind became too slow to form coherent thought.

Finally, fatigue won over his desire to stay awake, the prayer of his companion sounded fainter every time, lulling him to sleep. His heavy eyelids droop, and then he slept.

 

>>\--------->

 

Spring bloomed like a sweet promise to soothe the despair of the past winter months. The snow had melted away, revealing green luscious land beyond the beaches were the Mayflower passengers disembarked.

The group suffered heavy losses on all sides. Out of one hundred and twenty passangers that left England behind to find a new beginning, only fifty two survived winter, disease and hunger on the high seas. Half the crew of the ship was also lost. The ones who persevered, finally left their floating home, setting foot on land for the first time in close to seven months. Some of the newest members of the group, the ones born on the ship had never been on land before!

On the 21st day of March, on 1620, the year of the Lord, the Mayflower saw its inhabitants return to firm land. It certainly was occasion to be grateful; still, one boy trudged heavy hearted and crush spirited, trailing after his fellow companions, dragging the last belongings of his family. There was no one else to share the burden, but his almost emaciated shoulders. His family was gone, and he was all alone.

"Young master Mellark! Welcome to Plymouth Colony!" Beamed Plutarch Heavensbee, surviving leader of the group of Protestant settlers that called themselves the Saints. "Please, come see me if you have need of anything m'boy, otherwise, go on ahead, and live the life the Lord has given you, lad!"

The man's words grated the boy's ears in the worse of ways, still, being polite as he was, young mister Mellark gave his elder a nod and grateful smile, that did not reach his eyes. He marched on, to find a space to call his own, and start building living quarters for himself as best he could. There would be no reason to delay, it was only him to watch out for, and he needed shelter and a place to rest his head at night.

 

* * *

 

Months went by, and an alliance was forged between the settlers and the friendly natives of the area. Through trades of materials and lots of good faith, the two groups worked together, creating better living conditions for the newcomers. The natives taught the settlers to hunt, gather and raise crops suitable for the region, and finally things started to look up for everyone; even the young orphaned boy had found a place in this new society, were he found useful ways to contribute to his community like a responsible member of the new colony.

The boy learned to gather, and was already an accomplished baker, he found his place in food preparations; he wasn't the best hunter, though his value was better appreciated by his brute physical strength, at the tender age of fifteen, he was more capable to lift hundreds of pounds of materials, while other men could only look on; that was the reason the boy was kept in building crews, only being called to help the hunters when they had a particularly fruitful haul.

His good nature also won him the fondness of the elder wives, who doted on him as if he was one of their lost children; seeing as he had lost his own mother, and was in fact starved for affection, he strode to please everyone. Women and men alike treated him like son or a pupil, to be taught how to live like a free man in the new world, but still, at night, when he laid on his crudely made bed under his drafty hut at the edge of the encampment, he prayed with fervor, that the Lord would show him purpose in life.

" _Lord almighty in heaven, please show me the plan you have for my life. People said you chose me to live for a reason, reaped me from the harvest of other souls called to your presence. To survive so much struggle. To survive the harsh tide. Show me the special task you prepared for me. Please, Lord God, may I be a bright light in the darkness, or may I be a blessing upon another. Show me what plan there is for me,"_

The boy repeated the prayer every night, and every night he waited patiently for answer. God only remained quiet until the first harvest Plymouth Colony saw through in their new home, and his first glance at what God's plan for him was: to protect and care, for a girl, as broken and alone as he was.

 

* * *

 

For a few precious weeks, all the hardship the settlers had gone through was forgotten; a sense of accomplishment and pride filled the early pilgrims' hearts as they gathered the fruits of their crops, and saw the bountiful blessing of the earth they had work so hard.

Everyone was in high spirits.

The colonists were rightfully content, seeing how they had been blessed with more life and food than they had ever hoped for after the months of despair, illness and death. Women's bellies were full with children, men could claim land without restriction, and there was food and proper shelter for everyone.

The Saints were grateful to the Lord and to the Wampanoag people, who helped them survive by lending their skill and knowledge. The Saints decided to celebrate the harvest, in a banquet of thanksgiving to honored both, God and their new friends.

No one person sat idle those days. Everyone did what they could to make the event memorable.

Hunting parties left the safety of the camp, to fetch meat for the feast. The boy, Mellark, joined the group of hunters to help carrying back the game they were anticipating and praying for to collect.

Some of the natives joined the group, and brought down deer, wild turkeys and hares, adding to the fare. The others at Plymouth Settlement, the gatherers, had put together baskets full of corn, beans and squash, reaped from their own crops. By the time the food, game and vegetables, were all set in the hands of the wives and the Wampanoag women that came to help with the preparations, the mood of the people, English and native, was soaring high.

The first night of feasting, the colonist sang hymns and praises to God, before they settled down to eat.

Saint Heavensbee stood at the head of the table, and raised his hands to the sky, with practiced ease, he started a prayer.

"Good Father in heaven, thank you for the bountiful meal before us. Thank you for the cornucopia of abundance and blessings you've bestowed upon us. Thank you for our friends the Wampanoag, and for the gift of their skills to work the earth. Thank you for a year of hardship, that ended in wellness. Please, continue to bless us, as we shine bright, like the beacon of light you've made us to be, in this dark world. Amen!" The robust man, lowered his arms, and with a benign smiled invited the rest of his company to sit at the table and partake of the spread.

All had been well. Everyone ate their fill and then some, and still they had to put away whole chunks of venison and several ears of corn and dishes of greens. It truly had been the biggest supper any of them had seen in a very long time.

But the gratefulness of men is ephemeral, and their compassion unreliable, shifting like the wind changes course. Our dutch boy learned this things about the fickleness of men, as he walked to his own little dwelling that evening.

 

"I got you now, thief!"

The sound of a hard slap against tender flesh followed the menacing male growl that broke throughout the quiet. The boy recognized physical abuse; he had suffered it himself at the hands of his own mother for most of his childhood, so he froze. A fear older than life itself held him to the ground as he heard the man threatened whoever he had just stroke.

"I knew I should've shot you last time I saw you lurking about! maybe I ought to rectify my mistake now..."

The boy was finally broken from his stupor, a bravery he had no idea resided in him pushed him towards the voice. He could make out a small whimpering under the stillness of the falling evening. A child, he thought. The man was threatening _a child_. An inexplicable desire to protect this unknown child came over him pulling his feet forward.

In a moment, he rounded the few wood houses between him and the man and his victim. He had no time to think about it, when he saw the man rise the butt of his musket above a dark bundle, huddled on the ground, skinny arms shooting up to shield a head of long dark hair, shaking like a leaf.

The solid material of the gun butt found its mark on the boy's strong shoulder blade. The force of impact made the boy grunt in pain, causing him to sink low, almost crushing the child under his body weight. After a moment of confusion on the man's part, the boy turned to face the aggressor, hiding the child behind his broader frame. Since their arrival to firm land, the boy had developed muscles, bigger, broader, than most men in the colony, earning the respect of everyone, if by pure sheer awe of bulk. Yet, this, would be the very first time the boy used his size and musculature for his own advantage.

"Mellark! What do you think you're doing, lad? Get out of the way, so I can teach this scoundrel a lesson!" The man barked at the boy, stagwring back away from them all the same.

The Mellark boy had his hands loosely curled into fists, a ready stance, not meant to threaten but to warn.

"Mister Thread, I mean no disrespect, but I cannot in good faith allow you to cause this creature any harm,"

"That urchin was stealing from the colony!" The man yelled pointing his weapon at the child behind the boy.

"Do you understand English?" The young man asked, catching in his periphery a frightened nod in response. He asked, "It's what mister Thread said true?" Slightly turning his face, he noticed the child was in fact a girl.

She nodded shamefully while tear rows marked her grimy face.

"Food," she whimpered only loud enough for him to hear, showing a deer bone with hardly any meat on it.

"You were hungry?" The boy asked, throwing glances at Thread who still hovered around his prey thirsty for violence, then looked back to the girl, who shivered uncontrollably behind him.

The girl nodded again and sobbed, hugging her knees tightly to her chest, burying her face into them.

Peeta was done watching a grown man terrorized a defenseless, hungry child.

"I think I'll take care of this situation myself, if you don't mind, mister Thread. You go on back to your home and worry not about this child," Peeta said praying to almighty God his voice didn't give away just how shaken he felt.

"What are you going to do with her, lad?" Thread asked with a sick glint in his eyes. "You're old enough to be considered a man now, and you know what seamen say..." Thread's eyes sought out the ball of shivering bones behind the boy, an ugly, cruel sneer on his face.

The young man had absolutely no idea what Thread was trying to say, but he knew he didn't like tone at all. "I am not a sailor, I wouldn't know of their sayings," he said evenly staring down the man, moving closer to the girl to shield her from view completely.

"Every shore is a port, they say. Even female urchins like this one, can pass for women, when necessary." Thread's voice was leering and scary.

"I can assure you mister Thread, I'm not looking for a woman. But I will take care of this child, and send her on her way home,"

"That little savage has no home. But be my guest, boy. Spare her if you must. I just want her to be warned, if I catch her stealing our things..."

"Our _'waste'_?" The boy gritted between clenched teeth, his fist tightening with the beginnings of an all consuming rage, he started to fear he wouldn't be able to control, "The colony has enough food to share with her. I would appreciate it if you refrained from calling her names, sir."

Thread noticed the slow build up of rage in the boy's eyes along with the offensive stance he had assumed, and slowly stood back rigidly, inching away from them. "All the same, if she ever trespasses on my side, I won't hesitate to shoot,"

"Don't worry, she won't. I'll make sure she doesn't find herself in the need to steal food anymore. You won't have to bother with this _'savage'_ , if I can help it,"

With one more nasty look thrown in the girl's general direction, Thread was gone.

The boy turned to finally look at the girl, and see what could be done about her.

"Hi," he whispered softly, kneeling in front of her. He touched a finger tip to her shoulder lightly, trying to catch her gaze before speaking again, "I apologize for the way mister Thread treated you. He's not one of the Saints. He's not a very godly man, and I'm aware that not being a saint doesn't excuse his reproachable behavior," he explained gently, "Are you alright?" He waited for the girl to nod, and then he continued, "My name's Peeta. Peeta Mellark. What's yours?"

The girl finally lifted her face from her hiding spot, and to Peeta's surprised, he was met with the most striking gray eyes he had ever seen. They reminded him of stormy clouds in the horizon, with specks of blue lights strewn around the irises, like the star constellations he learned about during his voyage to the new world.

"Katniss," she muttered before swiping her runny nose with the back of her hand, "Everdeen."

She was caked in dried mud and dirt, except for the streaks on her cheeks where her tears had washed away the grime, showing small bits of smooth olive skin.

He couldn't quite tell what she was, he thought at first she was a native, judging by the leathery dress she wore, her uncovered head exposing very dark and sleek hair that fell down her back on a messy braid, and the lack of speech she had done. But now that he could see her up close, and he knew she spoke English, he was confused. She could be any race with the right clothing and under different circumstances.

"You said you were hungry. I don't have any food with me, but I know a few good people that might be able to help. Would you want to come with me looking for them, or would you just rather wait... Somewhere?" He asked cautiously, looking around them.

"Wait," she answered firmly, eyes darting to and fro nervously. "Not here. Some place else." She rushed out.

"That is smart thinking. Come on, I'll show you were I live, and you can wait there if you'd like," he offered the girl a hand to pull her up from the ground.

After a moment of simply staring at his opened hand in suspicion, she nodded and grabbed for it timidly.

She was surprised by the warmth and comfort she felt with his bigger hand around her's, but that didn't make her feel completely safe. Unlike Peeta, who had not understand the words said by Thread, she was painfully aware of the despicable things the old mean man hinted at: that even _her_ , dirty, unattractive and scrawny, could pass up for a women. She just wasn't sure the boy was not actually about to jump her, but she was so hungry, she would do anything if only he kept his word of finding food for her.

Peeta let go of her tiny hand once she was upright on her feet, and led her to his own little hut around the bend. He stopped himself short right before his hand had a chance to reach the door latch. Turning around, he asked her unsure, "Will you go inside, and wait for me until I get back? Or would you prefer to sit out here? You can do anything you want. I'll just be a moment," he said trying to smile at her.

Katniss stared for a moment, and then plopped down right next to his closed door. "I wait here. You go." She said, eyes scrutinizing his face as she spoke.

"Alright, if that's what you want, then you just wait here."

Peeta was only gone a few minutes, but Katniss was still running on adrenaline. She jumped at every single noise she heard, and she started to grow worried about the darkening sky above her. She needed to get back to her shelter soon, so when she finally saw the unmistakable broad figure of the boy with the floppy blond curls peeking from under a black hat approach, she stood up quickly, like a bird on flight.

"Here," Peeta said breathless from running to meet her. He handed her a bundle, "It's not much, but you're tiny. It should be enough for you, won't it?" He smiled back at her, watching her grabbed the pack from his hands and teared into the cloth napkin covering it.

Peeta felt a pang of sadness for the girl, when she finally saw the pieces of bread, small chunks of turkey meat, and the handful of corn ears he could find. To his surprise, Katniss only stared at the food in disbelief for a moment, and then, instead of digging into it with desperation as he had seen the few surviving children in the boat do not a year earlier, she took the ends of the napkin, and carefully bound them into a knot, securing every morsel into place for later. Peeta frowned.

"You're not going to eat it?" He asked confused.

She shook her head resolutely. "No!" She almost yelled, "I... I..." Her resolve waned, her eyes softened, giving way to tiredness. She looked up at the boy. Gave him a curt nod, and ran off without saying anything else.

"Katniss?" Peeta called, "I forgot to give you this!" He held up a bottle of fresh drinking water, but she was already slinking deep into the foliage of the woods at the edge of Plymouth Colony.

 

 >>\------>

 

Peeta didn't see Katniss for months after their first encounter, only praying she was alright, or that she would come to him if she wasn't. But the season passed and winter arrived, bitter and harsh as ever, only this time, the colonists were marginally better prepared for it.

On a particularly harsh night, a knock to Peeta's door startled him awake; he threw the many blankets he had left from his family off himself, practically jumping out of bed. Quickly, he pulled on the suspenders that held his trousers upright, and throwing on a fur and leather coat the women in settlement had made for him, he opened the door just enough to look outside. It was dark still; no sign of the sun yet, but what he found at the other side of his door made him throw it completely open, and hurriedly, pull in the two figures precariously standing outside his house.

"Almighty Lord in heaven! Come in! Into the bed at once!" He pushed the trembling girl deeper into his little living space, and closer to his makeshift bed.

Katniss dug her heels on the dirt floor and stubbornly refused to go any farther.

"Katniss, go into the bed and under the covers! your lips are blue and there's ice in your hair. You need to get warm!" Peeta was frantically pushing her forward.

"No... You save her. Please!" She begged pitifully, trying to hand over to him the limp body of an even smaller child. This one as fair as one of the children in the colony.

Peeta shook his head but took the child from Katniss' embrace, were she half carried, half dragged the little girl. "Come on, you both need to get in the bed. I'll see if I can find help," he gave Katniss a stern stare, and after placing the smaller girl in the hay and grass mattress, he made the older one climb in after.

He covered them both with all the blankets he had, and checked on the water bottle that had been scalding hot when he put it between his sheets earlier that night to warm up his bed. The water was dishearteningly cold.

He picked up the bottle all the same, and strode out the small shack, intent to fetch hot water from somewhere and a ration of food if he had the chance.

"Stay in bed!" He called over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

 

>>\------>

 

A young woman with sweet blue eyes and cheeks as red as apples, poked Katniss awake.

The girl hadn't realized she had fallen asleep at all, until the woman made her open her heavy eyes.

"Hi dear, I'm miss Delia Cartwright, everyone calls me Delly. I brought you some broth, and a pair of dry boots. Yours are wet from the snow." The woman said very slowly, sitting back on the edge of the small bed.

"My sister!" Katniss breathed out sitting upright with a start.

"Your little companion?" Asked Delly slowly, "She's already eating. She's weak, but she'll be alright. Now, it's your turn to put something warm in your belly. Come," she beckoned with a soft hand.

Katniss looked up, around the one room hut and saw that indeed her sister was sitting on a chair, swaddled in furs, Peeta kneeling in front of her spoon feeding her soup. Katniss slid off the bed, quickly regretting leaving the warmth of the blankets, but wanting to check on her sister and maybe, eating the broth afterward.

The younger girl looked up, and saw her older sister taking tiny steps in her direction, "Katniss! Look! Soup!" The little girl choked out with a radiant smile in her tiny face.

"Yes, Prim. I told you. Mister Mellark is good people, I told you he'd help." Katniss said to her sister and then wavered on her feet.

Delly rushed to hold her straight, and gently pulled her back into the bed, pushing her legs under the covers.

"Eat!" Peeta ordered from his spot. 

Katniss nodded, and when Delly offered to feed her like Peeta was doing with Prim, she simply took the chipped bowl from the settler and forgoing the spoon, tipped the contents directly into her eager mouth. The broth was only mildly warm, but that was probably because it sat too long before she ate it. Nonetheless, she chowed it down, like the starved child she was.

"I'm sorry things have been hard for you," said Delly sitting down on the edge on the bed again. She tried combing back the darker girl's filthy hair, but Katniss jerked her head away from the woman's touch, her eyes roved angrily over Delly's features.

Delly backed off right away to change tactics. "Mmm, may I ask how old you are?" She said timidly.

Katniss narrowed her eyes at Delly for a moment, she glared over the edge of the bowl, until the food was all gone. She sat the empty vessel down on her lap before speaking.

"You may ask. I can't stop you from asking. Why do you want to know?" Katniss asked suspiciously.

"Well, we need to know about you. You came here for help, and the least you can do in exchange for that help, is... talk to us," said Delly softly, trying to hide her offense behind kindness.

Katniss didn't like it, but she realized the young woman was right, she owed them a big debt, and if all they wanted in return were answers, she could give them that. Taking a breath, she spoke, "My mother was the one who kept time. The last thing I remembered she said about my age, was thirteen. This is the second winter since then. I also know I was born on the eighth of May. But, as I said, mother was the time keeper. I wouldn't know the days from the months without her."

"The eighth of May! That is good. If this is the second winter, since you heard your age, that means you will be fifteen come Spring. Do you know her age and birth date?" Asked Delly taking the bowl from the girl and pointing her eyes to Prim.

"March!" Said Prim behind Delly, voice raspy but eager. "Katniss is eighth of May. Me... second March!" Said the girl beaming weakly at the people in the small house. Speaking seem to be taking a toll on the little girl, but he face shone with happiness every time she contributed something to the conversation.

"Thank you, Primrose. That's very helpful of you!" Said Peeta softly, eyes sweet as he took the little girl in.

Prim nodded gratefully, and opened her mouth big for another spoonful of broth, like a little bird chick.

Delly looked at Katniss, and finally grabbed her wrist, staring her down the whole time. "I need to see something. I'll let go of your arm, and won't touch again as soon as I'm done, but you have to let me check,"

Katniss acquiesced morosely.

It only took Delly a second to wrap her middle finger around the girl's wrist, and then touch the tip of it with the tip of her thumb. Delly's lips pursed, and a deep crease of consternation formed in her forehead.

"She needs more food. Lots more food!" She declared shortly, "She's underdeveloped for a fourteen year old girl. She looks like she's twelve, eleven even." Delly snapped almost angrily, as if Katniss' malnourishment was a personal affront against herself. Katniss had to resist the need to scoff.

"I'm ten!" Prim piped up slurping the last dregs of her broth.

"Then you need food too, you should be taller, and rosier." Said Delly.

"I... I'm sorry. It's my fault, Prim is too little. I haven't been very good at scavenging food this time of year," Shame colored Katniss' voice, hearing Delly declared Prim underweight, underdeveloped, caused her great sadness and distress. All she could do was stare at her clasped hands on her lap and fight back her tears.

"Oh no, darling. You did great!" Cried Delly urgently, this time Katniss didn't fight the woman when she threw her arms around her shoulders, "You did the right thing coming here. Another day out there... You wouldn't have made it," Delly's blue eyes were filled with compassion and sorrow for the girls, but hardly any pity.

Katniss gave Delly an unconvinced glance, before ducking her gaze once more, "Thank you, Miss Cartwright".

"It's alright. It was the christian thing to do. Now go back to sleep. You need your strength. Someone will be back with more food later, most likely myself. Please, rest Katniss."

The girl laid her head into the mattress, and saw Delly stand close to Peeta to whisper something. A moment later, she was out the door.

Peeta carried a half sleep Prim back to the bed, and placed her next to her sister in the narrow space. Katniss wrapped her spindly arms tightly around the little girl and looked deeply into Peeta's eyes. After a moment of hesitation, she murmured, "Thank you,"

"It's alright, Katniss. Go to sleep." He whispered in what he hoped was encouragement.

Feeling spent, heavy lidded, warm and full, Katniss burrowed deeper into the blankets.

"Mister Mellark," she called sleepily, "What about you? Prim and I are taking your bed," she inquired shyly.

"Oh. Don't you worry yourself about it. It's day time now, and I'm expected in the kitchens to help with the ovens. You two rest. I will think about my own accommodations later," his voice was soft, gentle. He made to grab his hat from where it sat on a small table that passed for a desk where he had fed Prim. He fiddled with the rim of the hat for a moment. "Katniss?"

She was barely conscious by then, but she made the effort to lift her eyes towards him.

"You don't need to call me mister Mellark. You will do me an enormous favor if you called me Peeta."

She frowned for a moment. "I know my place, sir. It's not proper for a person like me to call you by your christian name." She said darkly.

"Then it's not proper to call you by your first name either... Miss Everdeen, is it?"

"Don't. Please. I'm not like you. I don't have a home or a family. I'm just a wretched urchin, that can't provide for her sister. Please don't lose time trying to make me feel like I matter. But, thank you for helping Prim. She's the one that deserves to make it through the winter,"

"Katniss," Peeta sighed, pulling the only chair in the house, closer to the bed, "You are important too, I will do all I can to help you and Primrose, but I need you to stop thinking of you as unworthy, or unwanted. You're a person too,"

"I'm a thief, mister Mellark," she reminded him.

"You were hungry!" He countered, "But if you let me help, then you won't be anymore. You won't have to steal scraps from anyone. I promise, if you let me help you, I'll take care of you both."

The vehemence in his voice, and the tiredness she felt, compelled her to agree, so she finally did with a nod of her heavy head.

"Rest. I'll see you later."

She didn't open her eyes until Delly shook her shoulder gently, to announce lunch.

 

That afternoon, Peeta came home to find an empty bed and two missing blankets. He sat on the chair heavily, dropping on the table the small portion of bread and yams he had carried from the common kitchens. He scrubbed his face in near aggravation, before breaking a piece of bread and stuffing it in his mouth. He couldn't understand Katniss' rude ways, but still, he prayed she'd stayed safe and warm.

The next day, he opened the door to find a handful of nuts, wrapped in a piece of cloth. No note, but a small black and white feather attached to it. Somehow, he knew it came from her, a peace offering. He smiled as he dropped the bundle in his coat pocket.

 

A week passed before he found Prim, sitting very still by his door. He let her inside the house, let her sleep in his bed, fed her, and sent her on her way the next day, with tiny arms full of supplies.

Next time she came, she brought a branch of green pine needles and a handful of pine bark, explaining how to boil the bark for tea, and that the needles she picked for him, because they were the only thing with color in the woods this time of year. Peeta accepted both, understanding, the 'tea' gift came from Katniss, who was conspicuously absent.

Prim continued to show up to stay the night on particularly cold evenings, bringing pine bark for tea, no sister on sight, and stories of life in the woods. Peeta allowed her to stay, caring for her as if she was _his_ to watch over. Soon, he enlisted Delly's help to find the girl some warmer clothing, and footwear to replace her too big, too battered moccasins.

Wherever the girls came from, was definitely Indian. Both of them wore deerskin dresses, old, worn and dirty, with high moccasin boots in real bad shape, which could only mean they were without a tribe, and without caretakers. If Peeta had learned anything about the Wampanoag, was that they protected their young.

Peeta felt his chest tightened, just thinking about it. He himself was an orphan, but unlike the two girls, he had become an orphan amidst good, caring people, who had looked out for him providing him with food and clothes, while he lent his strength for the development of the colony. Since he was sixteen years of age now, he was allowed to live on his own, choosing not to apprenticed any other skills, since he already knew his family trade from back home.

Katniss and Prim were alone in the world, and no one seemed to care except from him, and sometimes miss Delly.

"What happened to your mother and father, little Prim?" Peeta asked on the fourth night she came to stay.

Looking up at him with big sad eyes, she whispered, "Papa was hunting. He never came back home. Mama was too sad, and then chief Bearded Crane made us leave," Prim shrugged, head bowed and sad eyes downcast, "Mama, Katniss and I left to go to Boston, but now it's just Katniss and me. Katniss does not know the way to Boston, we've been lost for many moons," she shook her head slowly as her frail, slim shoulders sagged.

Peeta felt his insides twist in sorrow for the girls.

"Is there anything I can do to help her?" He asked eagerly.

After thinking about it for a moment, Prim's little face light up with an idea.

"If you can find her a map, a bow and a quiver, she could find the way to Boston. Papa taught her how to shoot a bow, and she was really good at making arrows,"

Peeta smiled down at the little girl, "Then a map and hunting materials for Katniss, it is! Now climb in bed little one, is past bed time!"

Prim obeyed after giving Peeta a tight hug. He gave a contented sigh, when his hand smoothed down the girl's back, and he realized her bones where not protruding as badly as a mere week an a half earlier. Already the few provisions he had procured for the sisters have been improving their body weight... Or at least he hoped it was the same for the elder girl, since it had been a long while since he saw her last.

Peeta now had a goal in mind, to help Katniss, even if he wasn't sure about how to get his hands on a map, he was quite positive he'd be able to acquire a bow and quiver easily enough.

 

 >>\------>

 

He wasn't completely wrong about the map; there just wasn't one around, but procuring a bow proved a little more difficult than he hoped as well.

Darius Smith, a good natured young man, with hair red as flames, and a jester type personality, was in charge of all the weapons in the colony. The man was not originally part of the Saints, but much like Peeta, had adopted the Saints ideals during the long voyage to the new world. He was a few years older that Peeta, but treated him like an equal, until Peeta stated he was there, at the makeshift armory, to request a bow and quiver of arrows.

It was no secret Peeta Mellark was no hunter, so Darius arched one bushy ginger eyebrow, and asked suspiciously why, did the boy was suddenly interested in one. After a few minutes of Peeta's meandering answers, Darius conceded, and allowed him to take a look at the only four bows they had in existence, they were all made by the natives, and so far, no one had been able to recreate any, as strong and well built as those.

"Keep a good eye on it. Don't  break it. Go to Haymitch for instructions on how to use it properly. I'm rubbish at it myself," said Darius with a self deprecating smile on his face.

"I promise I will put it to good use!" Responded Peeta; out of everything he had said that day, all half truths to conceal his real intentions, that last statement was absolutely true. If he gave Katniss the bow, she could sustain herself. He knew that. There was no better use than that in his eyes.

 

 

The snow and ice started to recede; winter wasn't completely gone, but everyone could practically taste the first pulses of spring in the air. It was a good thing too, since the settlers' food stores had been dangerously low as of late.

The first sunny day, a group of men reunited close to the edge of the woods preparing for a hunt. Thirsty Goose, an english-speaking Pawtuxet, member of the Wampanoag tribe helping the colonist, better known as Haymitch, a christian name a different group of settlers had given him some years earlier, when he converted to Christianity, was at the head of the hunting party.

The man was surly, middle aged and with a severe case of impatience that grew more exacerbated towards Saint Heavensbee's cavalier approach to hunting and stocking meat for his own people. Haymitch was also honest and practical, and a very good mentor, if his trainees showed skills and were willing to listen.

Peeta joined the group of hunters and the handful of Wampanoag guides, bow and arrows slung around his back. He hoped to leave the weapons on a fallen tree, Prim had scouted out previously. He hoped that the little girl would lead her sister right to it that afternoon, after the men had left the wilderness.

But things didn't quite worked as planed.

Early on, Peeta had come up with a very elaborate plan as to what to say to his fellow hunters, once they returned home and the absence of his bow was noticed. He was to find the log marked by Prim, leave his package there, and then pretend he had left it forgotten on a rest stop. As it turned out, as soon as he put the bow down, a man named Jason reminded him to grab his weapon; five minutes later, he tried to put it down again, only to be caught once more by a different person.

Peeta was growing frustrated, but he figured, that the whole thing would serve to make his story not just plausible, but downright true at the eyes of his company.

He was very careful to place the items nearly on the same log on their way back to their village. It was good luck they stuck to the same path coming back. The success of his plan was almost perfect, except for the fact, neither him nor Prim accounted for Katniss' stubbornness.

 

 >>\------>

 

Night had fallen, and the elder men had rebuked and reprimanded Peeta since his arrival to Plymouth encampment, about first, not having gotten any kills himself, and second losing his invaluable bow so carelessly. Some of the more intransigent Saints had even demanded he returned to the woods looking for it right away.

Only until Saint Heavensbee intervened, did they let the boy go home to rest, and try to put that horrible day behind him. In his mind, the ordeal and severe ragging would've been worth it, if Katniss had only taken the gift and used it, but she didn't.

From afar, Peeta saw the raven haired girl pacing back and forth in front of his hut, bow and quiver full of arrows tightly held in her fists. He frowned, it wasn't like her to come to his doorstep at all, unless there was a problem, so he picked up his pace, breaking into a sprint, looking to and fro, making sure there were no onlookers to misinterpret the situation.

So far, he had managed to keep Katniss and Prim's comings and goings between himself and Delia Cartwright, who was also orphaned, although she still had a younger brother to care for, and had a really big heart full of empathy for all of God's creations, particularly those in need.

Peeta finally reached Katniss, and before he could ask her what was the matter, or more importantly, where was Primrose, the girl turn on him and pounded like an aggravated bobcat.

"Here! I will not take your charity, especially if it came from the ones protecting your people!" She snapped, her face was flushed and her eyes aflame with anger.

"What? Why can't you take it?" He asked in outrage, "I went to a whole deal of trouble to get you that bow, and now you are rejecting it? If you don't want to take it for yourself, then do it to feed Primrose!" He rose his voice as high as he dared, which wasn't much. He was at the edge of the settlement, but not completely isolated. Many single men lived in little huts like his after all.

"I can't, and I won't take it. On principle, it's not yours to give to me, in second place, I will be accused of stealing Wampanoag articles, in third place, I didn't ask you to get it for me because I could never repay you the favor. I don't want to have any debts hanging over my head!" She glared at him, shoving the bow into his chest.

"Just take it!" He hissed feeling his temper rise. He shoved it back at her.

"No!" She pushed it into his hands.

"Stop! See reason, will ya?" He snapped, pushing the bow away from him and into her arms.

Soon, they were shuffling the bow back and forth between them, pushing and pulling, not taking care of lowering their grunts and growls; out of nowhere, Prim came charging into the two struggling teenagers and started pleading with her sister to stop, her cries where louder still than the other two, then suddenly, an alarm bell went off somewhere close by.

Men, armed to the gills, started pouring in from every direction until they had the youth surrounded with weapons drawn pointing at them.

A man started screaming at the top of his lungs, "Thief! Thief! Thief in our midsts!"

Peeta, Katniss and Prim immediately stopped the strife, dropping the bow to the half frozen ground, all the arrows fell scattered by their feet. Peeta felt his stomach pitch and fall, the fear the gripped his airwaves making it impossible to properly draw breath, wasn't for himself, but for the two girls he had sworn to help; had he doomed them instead?

"I told you not to steal from us again, thief! I told you I'd shoot you if I ever saw you here again!"

Peeta was finally able to place the odious voice of Thread as the speaker, and then the terror escalated paramount heights.

Romulus Thread was a happy trigger opportunist, that was part of the group the Saints called the Strangers, for they were not lead by their pursuit of freedom to worship God as they saw fit, but were driven by other, more selfish reasons, like the owning of land and the fast engrossing of easy profits other colonist had achieved.

Thread was no God-fearing man, he couldn't be reasoned with to overlook things and exercised compassion, like the Saints could be swayed.

So Peeta planted himself between his own people and the girls, "She's _not_ a thief!" if they wanted to get _them_ , they had to take him as well.

"What is the meaning of this?" The almost high pitch voice of Saint Heavensbee disrupted the tensed standoff. The rotund man made his way between the settlers that had come to investigate what the ruckus was about. The sight would've been comical if the circumstances weren't so grave. Heavensbee had rushed there only wearing an ill fitting coat, over his white sleeping gown and a matching sleeping cap that lolled atop his straw like white hair.

"This little thief," Thread's gravelly voice whizzed out maliciously. Stepping forward, from the congregated colonists, he jabbed Katniss' side with the butt of his musket, making her squeal and jumped sideways, into the open, as the man continued to talk, "was caught red handed, grappling with poor mister Mellark for his recovered bow!"

Peeta reacted almost as quickly as Katniss' distressed gasp left her mouth at a second jab from Thread's gun, "We get it, alright! She's going!" The young boy gritted through clenched teeth as he slapped the barrel of the musket away from Katniss, and stepped in front of her once more.

By then, almost the whole Colony was out of bed, pressing into the circle of onlookers, except for the few mothers with little babes, who stayed inside their houses.

"Oh no, young man! This here creature has been accused of stealing. A terrible sin, and punishable crime, according to the Mayflower Compact all heads of family had to agreed on, upon landing on Plymouth Colony," said Saint Heavensbee with an authoritarian air, waving a hand around.

"But she didn't steal anything!" Protested Peeta, "She was actually returning the bow, and I was..."

"Enough!" Called Heavensbee loudly interrupting the boy, before addressing Thread. "Of course, since this is a grave accusation to make, I will expect proof of the crime at hand to be provided, we will proceed with litigations then," Heavensbee's milky blue eyes fixed the accuser for a moment, pinning him to the spot, before they started dancing back and forth, as he took in all of his denizens looking at him with great interest. "This will be exciting! Our first criminal trial!" He announced with a small chortle.

"But, the excitement will have to wait until morning. We will hold a town meeting in the morrow. I will expect you all there!" With that, Heavensbee started to make his way back to his own dwelling.

"What about Katniss?" Peeta asked distressed. He could feel the girl shivering behind him, or maybe it was Primrose who shook like a leaf.

"Who?" Heavensbee asked flatly.

"The _accused_ ," Peeta intoned annoyedly, "What is to be done with her until morning?"

"We will let mister Cray find her a suitable... cell," Heavensbee said dismissively, he was about to leave again, when a woman stepped out of the crowd and stopped him once more.

"None of that, Brother! I cannot condone such a measure. This is a child, after all. She will not be manhandled on my watch, it matters not what she did! There has to be decorum in our actions, or else we cannot call ourselves civilized people,"

"Well then, Sister, I release the... er, _accused_ , into your custody. You will be her chaperone until we've convene and decide her fate." Declared the man tiredly, the excitement of the trial to come the next day not so vibrant anymore.

Peeta was surprised at how much relief he felt to hear Katniss was being placed under the care of an upstanding, if the prissiest woman in the community, instead of mister Cray's custodianship.

Peeta knew of Cray's shady reputation from back home in England, and how he was always too close and familiar with young girls, to the point some mothers wouldn't allowed their female children unsupervised around him. Peeta still could not decide what was so unnerving about the sickly looking man, but he surely was happy Katniss was not going with him for the night.

Saint Heavensbee spoke again, "Every male, head of a family, is to converge in the common hall after breakfast. Can we please return to our homes now?" It wasn't quite a request, but a command that everyone heeded gratefully, since the temperature had been steadily dropping while standing out in the open.

Peeta stood ramrod still where he was, waiting for someone to try and touch Katniss, but nobody did. Only Saint Heavensbee's sister approach the teens, fastening her coat tighter over the day clothing she still wore, as opposed to half the other spectators.

"Well dearies, it's time to go find shelter for the night," the woman said in an affected accent, much like her brother's, except her's was more pronounced. "We have a big, big, big day tomorrow. Come, come!" She said gesturing a hand for Katniss to follow her.

"Wait, Ms. Trinket. I will like to escort you both home," Peeta said out of breath, his chest tightening with anxiety.

"Why, how lovely of you, dear boy! Thank you. Of course we could use the company of a gentleman. I swear, sometimes it seems as if chivalry died at sea with most of our fellow Saints. I am most pleased to see you, being from a Stranger family, were taught manners,"

Ms. Trinket suddenly saw movement behind Katniss; that's when she noticed what most people had missed. A little girl had run and hid inside Peeta's little home, and only then had timidly left the safety of her hiding spot.

"Why mister Mellark, I had no idea you had a little sister!" Exclaimed the woman, causing both Peeta and Katniss to look back behind them, expressions of surprise in both their faces.

Peeta started to speak, to correct Ms. Trinket's mistaken assumption, but before he could say anything, Katniss had stomped on his foot, her eyes widening in warning to stay quiet.

"Yes, that's mister Mellark's little sister, ma'am. She's shy." Said Katniss at once, before Peeta could deny the lie.

"Oh, you speak English! And so eloquently as well! Good! I wasn't sure how was I going to communicate with you,"

"Of course I speak English!" It was Peeta's turn to elbow Katniss in the ribs to keep her quiet. He didn't need her angering the only person willing to keep her out of some dark and drafty improvised cell.

"Well, how was it that we weren't inform of this sweet little angel?" Said Ms. Trinket oblivious to the war of wills between the older children.

The woman stepped closer to the little girl, and crouched on a possitively undignified way in front of her. Sha gave the thin little face a good look, before grinning.

Prim was dressed head to toe in clothes Delly had given her earlier on. Her clothing was warmer now, and she had shoes instead of moccasin boots, and a white bonnet, with two slim blond braids peaking out from under it. The girl easily passed for one more colonist child.

"Look at you. You're adorable. What is your name, dear?"

"Primrose," the girl muttered shyly, her sky blue eyes found her sister right as she was saying her last name "Ev... Mm... Mellark?" Prim cocked her head sideways, looking past ms. Trinket quizzically.

Behind the woman, both teens were miming and pointing at Peeta and herself frantically. But when Ms. Trinket looked back, they both stood rigidly still, not moving a muscle.

"Very well then, mister Mellark, I think it is more important for you to stay home with your sister, put her in bed..." Ms. Trinket pursed her lips, "We will have to revise your living quarters, sir. Your current one is only apt for one person, with only the bare minimum. But never mind that, thank you for the offer to escort us. We can make it on our own, won't we miss..." She stopped again, and gave a tiny laugh, "Sorry dear, but I don't think we got properly introduced. I'm Felicity Trinket. Although my brother Plutarch, insists on calling me Effie since childhood. Is infuriating that some times, people try to address me as such, as if I've allowed them such intimacy. But I digress... Oh, you're shivering, darling. What's your name?" Asked Effie untying a knitted shawl from around her shoulders, and placing it over Katniss' trembling frame.

"This is Katniss Everdeen, Ms. Trinket. I promise, she was only trying to return a lost bow to me. This is only a great misunderstanding!" Said Peeta quickly.

"It's alright, my dear. I believe you, and you should say this to the other men tomorrow at the meeting," said the woman fixing the shawl over Katniss, "I will do my best to have, miss Everdeen here presentable as well for her appearance before court. She needs all the help we can provide, if she's to be released from those awful charges. Now, we must take our leave. Follow me dear,"

With one last glance at her sister's tear filled eyes, now encased in Peeta's strong arms, Katniss followed Effie deeper into the settlement, than she'd ever been.

 

* * *

 

The next morning came swiftly, bringing a chilly breeze with it. Most people bundled themselves up so heavily, it was a miracle they could walk at all. Peeta and Prim were huddled together outside of Ms. Trinket's house, with a blanket rolled up under his arm to wrap around Katniss, but when the door opened, he realized- with eyes wide as saucers- the blanket was unnecessary.

Ms. Trinket had dressed Katniss as one of them: a Saint.

The girl donned a very long dress made of dark brown wool, the bodice on top was only slightly loose over her petite figure, fastened at the front with numerous wood buttons and accentuated by a white lace collar, cuffs around the wrists of her long sleeves. She also wore an off white waist coat accentuating her slim waist. Her dark tresses were tightly gathered in a bun at her nape of her head, covered by a white linen bonnet similar to that of Prim. 

Her face was clean, so were her hands. Peeta deduced Ms. Trinket had made the girl bathe as well, before putting her in the new outfit.

Stepping into the cold, ms. Trinket handed the girl a long deep red cloak fastened at the neck, that encased her body whole.

Beyond the difference of her garments, Peeta noticed how much his age Katniss looked out of her worn rags and properly groomed. She didn't look like a little malnourished urchin, but a sticking young lady with skin so smooth it was hard to not wonder what it felt like under fingertips.

But it was her eyes he seek, those gray eyes had always been striking to him even under the grime and dimness of light, but now during day light, seeing her eyes was a spiritual experience altogether for Peeta.

The boy, who was usually known to be chatty and clever tongued, opened and closed his mouth several times realizing he had become temporarily mute; he finally shut his mouth and nodded curtly at the ladies, for lack of a better greeting.

Prim, upon seeing her sister, broke into a bright smile, and threw herself at the older girl coiling her warmly covered arms around her sister's waist.

"Oh Katniss, you look so pretty!" She exclaimed into her sister's stomach. 

Katniss laughed, and Peeta felt his knees shake at the beautiful sound. "No little duck, you look pretty!" She bended over to place a kiss on the younger girl's forehead before pressing her to her chest.

"Oh, I think you're the pretty one! Isn't she?" Prim turned to look at Peeta for support, "Tell her Peeta! Tell her how pretty she looks!" Prim goaded expectantly, as if she needed to convince the other girl she was right.

"L... lov-lovely. Katniss is lovely," he stuttered uselessly, ears flaming red as he spoke. His face was so warm, he had to adjust the collar of his shirt. 

Katniss blushed furiously as well.

"Isn't that sweet! Little miss Mellark is friends with our friend from the woods!" Sighed Ms. Trinket. "Beautiful!" Then as if realizing how rude everyone had been so far, she cleared her throat and admonished the youngsters, "Manners children! Now, all of you, say: 'Good morrow, Ms. Trinket. Hope you had a nice rest', then greet each other between yourselves, so can get on our way, it won't do to be late to the meeting. In fact it would be terrible etiquette! Now come... do as I instructed!" The last word was so high pitched and contrived, all three younglings had to suppress chuckles, before complying. 

They arrived to the meeting place even before Saint Heavensbee himself. The man rushed into the hall, flustered and sweaty even under the cold air blowing outside.

"Effie! Good, you're here already! Please have the wives and children stay within their designated chores for the day. The men will deliberate over this matter and hopefully get back to work as well, by midday. Thank you!" Without another look, Plutarch marched past them, to sit at a table at the front of the hall.

Effie's posture had changed considerably, since her brother spoke to her. She stood to her full height, lips pursed- almost white- clearly holding back a retort to her brother's retrieving back.

"Well, I've never!" She snapped under her breath, she turned to Peeta and Prim, who'd held hands the whole way from Effie's home to the Common Hall.

"Mister Mellark, it seems young miss Mellark is barred from the meeting, same as myself and every other woman and child in the colony. If you will allow me to take Miss Mellark with me, I will love to take her to the next girls' school class until you, men, are adjourned," she extended her hand to take Prim's.

The little girl clang to Peeta with both hands, hiding her face behind his thick arm. Peeta looked up to Katniss, seeking instructions as to what to do, but she was already crouching down to Prim's level.

"Go with her little duck. It will be fine. Ms. Trinket is very nice, and she might have a cookie to share with you if you behave," Katniss' eyes met Effie's for a moment, and something passed through Effie's eyes.

The woman looked between the two girls for a second, and then, understanding settled in her gaze. She spared Peeta a curiously look, before reaching to straighten the boy's collar under his heavy coat. She found his eyes; her hazel green color, so very different than that of her brother's milky blue eyes.

"I keep calling you a boy, my dear," she said finally, "but, you're already a man. A good one as well," she sighed, patting Peeta's cheek affectionately, "The late mister Trinket always quote the Scriptures in Proverbs 18:22, _The man whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord._ "

Peeta's brows furrowed, and soon his face widened in surprise at the words the woman was speaking.

"After the first man was created, God saw that he was alone. A man is not supposed to be alone for long, so God created a wife to help him. Maybe time has come to seek a wife to keep you company? Maybe you will keep each other company," Effie finally separated from the boy who was now more pensive than before. "Sometimes, the easiest way to help somebody, is to embrace your adulthood.

"Now, my dears, remember what I've said. Both of you," She folded her hands at her middle and peered at the youth. "Manners and attitude go a long way, young lady," she told Katniss, then she turned to look at Peeta, "You might have to step up as a man today," Her eyes moved for one face to the other, "Be brave, dearies. Everything will be alright," The teens nodded, and she finally took Prim's hands.

"Come now, miss Everdeen, your siblings will come for you soon enough," both Prim and Peeta looked at Katniss in alarm at the change of surname, but Katniss shook her head, and motion for Peeta to guide her into the meeting. Neither girl caught the use of plural for the word 'siblings', but Peeta did, his heart stuttering in his chest.

 

* * *

 

"State your name," Rasped old crusty mister Cray.

"Katniss Everdeen," she said quietly but steadily.

"Age?"

"I will be fifteen years old this upcoming eighth of May" she looked at Peeta for confirmation, he gave her a pleased nod.

"And I see you speak English very clearly. Where did you learned?" Asked Saint Heavensbee curiously, interrupting Cray.

Katniss took a deep breath, wrenching her hands around a handkerchief Effie had given her earlier, digging her freshly paired nails on her palms to suppress the cutting answer dancing at the tip of her tongue. Instead, she fixed her eyes on Peeta's for a moment, before returning her gaze to Heavensbee.

"My mother was a white woman from Boston. She taught me and my sister her language and customs," her voice was leveled and calm.

"I see, I see. You speak of your mother in past tense. What happened to her?"

Her eyes flamed for a moment, before seeking Peeta's once more. It seemed his deep blue eyes had the healing power of a serene lake; she let her anger drown in his eyes before responding.

"She's dead. So is my father."

"Mmm. My condolences, miss Everdeen. Is your sister still alive?"

"Yes. In fact, she's with Ms. Trinket for the day."

"Oh. Wonderful!" Said Saint Heavensbee without loosing a beat. "Would you be alright proceeding as we are, or would you like the help, of our friend Haymitch? He might be able to translate for you if you so prefer it."

"Thank you for the generous offer," she said looking at the man in the face, "But I can proceed in English myself, I doubt mister Haymitch speaks my native tongue anyway,"

"What are you talking about, girl? Won't you all natives, speak the same?" Asked Thread from a pew on the front row of the hall.

"There's more than one language in the world, sir. You'd know it if you weren't so busy looking down on the rest of us," she but without thinking. 

Before there was chance for an uproar to begin, another voice cut over Katniss'. "No. She's from a northern nation. She's a Seneca, we would be better off speaking English to each other if ever have the need to converse, but, I'll say this to you all, I like this kid. She's got... spunk!" Haymitch, who had been sitting next to Darius Smith at the front, stood up and sat on the very back of the venue, to watch the circus proceed, since his services where not necessary.

Katniss stared at the native man, the both of them finding respect in the others eyes.

 

The proceedings lasted for hours, even past lunch time; the men were impressed by some parts of Katniss' story, her survival skills and her hunting and tracking abilities were of the very outmost interest, but when time came to talk about the charge of thievery, most of the jurors had severe arguments and thoughts about it.

At the eyes of most of them, it was an unforgivable crime to lift other person's property, even if it was _discarded waste_ , as Peeta repeatedly pointed out.

"Miss Everdeen, you offered earlier, that your mother was from Boston. Was your father converted to Christianity?"

"He was not, but mother insisted my sister and I be instructed under Christian principles. We've learned of both cultures faiths." She answered firmly.

"Then you'd know, that stealing is a sin, but it's also a crime, at least in our society," Said Heavensbee.

"Stealing is a crime in any society, sir. But you cannot steal what that has no owner." She responded staring directly into his eyes. "What I took were scraps left in the open, tossed out for the beasts to drag out into the forest," a look of disdain hardened her eyes as she looked at Thread, "If what my accuse is true, and I'm nothing more than an urchin, then the scraps were left there for me," 

"We will not tolerate cheek, girl!" A man sprung up from his seat shouting the words.

"Please! Let's all, just calm down!" Peeta had jumped out of his own pew, and was now standing in front of Katniss, arms up in the air in a pacifying manner. "She didn't mean any cheek. She's just overwhelmed!" He pleaded, making Katniss shrink back, realizing how foolish had she been engaging this people in such a manner. 

Finally Peeta asked to speak on behalf the accused, since he had been denominated as the _offended party_  along with Thread, who was also the _Accuser._

The boy told everyone, how he had decided to 'lose' his hunting bow in the woods on purpose- somewhere he knew she would find it- and hoped she kept it to feed herself and her sister. He swore up and down, she had no knowledge of his scheme, nor she discussed it with him. He was very careful to keep Prim out of the ordeal as he spoke. Then he told of how Katniss came to return the item, how enraged and offended she had been, how he insisted she took it, and how the strife between them as she fought to return the bow was misunderstood by a passerby, who sounded the alarm bells prematurely.

Saint Heavensbee allowed everyone with a question in the audience, interrogate all parties, most people bombarded Katniss with questions about everything they could think off pertaining to the 'case'.

They finally dismissed her to a separate room, under Darius' watchful eye, so the rest of them could speak freely about what was to be done. The men concluded that one good action, as wa the returning of the bow and quiver to its rightful place, did not excuse the original crime of robbery performed previously. It was then just a matter of devising an appropriate punishment for the offense. Peeta, and a few other Saints protested the outcome.

Mister Odair, one of the few Saints who disembarked the Mayflower with his family intact, and actually added a child to his brood, stood up amongst the men; his voice and argument compelling enough to halt the punishment discussion for a moment.

"She's a child!" He exclaimed passionately, "And not only that, she's a female child! Doesn't the scriptures warn us to not touch our women even with a rose petal? Doesn't the scriptures prompt us to forgive oour neighbors, as the Good Lord forgave our offenses? Have we forgotten what it felt like to be so hungry and desperate to feed our loved ones, that we could have done unthinkable things for just a morsel of bread to put in our children's mouths?

"Please brothers, let us follow the teachings of the scriptures, and let this child go with a warning," he pleaded. His sea green eyes kept the room spellbound and silent, until Thread spoke.

"She's no girl. She's a ragamuffin, a scoundrel that will do it again as soon as our backs turn!"

"Not if she's given a better life!" Countered mister Odair, "We all came to this land in pursuit of a better life! We were blessed enough to have found it! Why can't we allow the same to happen to this GIRL?" His indignation at the man's words made mister Odair stand at full height. He was an impressively tall and muscular man when he wanted to show himself. Very intimidating.

"And how do you suggest we help her achieve this _better life_ , you so eloquently speak of, Saint Odair?" Asked Heavensbee pointedly, "We could only do so much for a single lady. Then, it would be inappropriate to get involved with an unattached young woman with not living relatives other than a small child..."

"I'll marry her!" Peeta's clear, loud voice rang throughout the room amidst gasps of surprise and incredulity.

"Boy, are you sure about that? A marriage is forever. You cannot change your mind midway," called Haymitch from the back shooting up to his feet, even if he wasn't part of the voting group.

"I... I know that marriage is a serious business." Peeta said resolutely. "Believe me. I do not speak of this lightly. I've given it a fair thought, and I have been told more than once, that I am a man now." He looked at the others around him standing tall, and even puffing out his chest to make himself seem bigger. "And a man... a man, needs a wife!" He finished the sentence with all the air he had left in his lungs. His legs were locked in place by some strange force, which was a good thing, otherwise he'd be a puddle on the wooden floor.

"Isn't she a little young?" Asked mister Odair, eyeing Peeta with narrowed, unconvinced eyes.

"She's... She'll be fifteen come May. That makes her a full year younger than me." Peeta prayed his nerves didn't show through his voice, although there was no hesitation in his speech, all the same, his heart hammered incessantly fast in his chest making everything feel rushed around him. "I made God a promise to watch over her and her sister. If making her my wife is the best way to fulfill my vow, I will gladly do it... If she... takes me of course," he whispered, his stomach pitched and twisted uncomfortably, he'd never thought about actually having to wait for her answer. ' _What if she refused? What would become of her? Of Prim?'_

His eyes searched every man's eye in the room, until he arrived to Saint Heavensbee's who's stare was unreadable.

"So you'll marry that savage? For what? Are you doing it because you've already used her? Because if that's the reason, you're a fool!" Cackled Thread mockingly.

"Used her? In which way could have I ever use another person? And I asked you nicely once already, to NOT call my friend a savage. Her name is Katniss, and she deserves respect as much as any person does!" He spoke measuredly, although his blood boiled in his veins with anger towards Thread for once again using a derogatory term against Katniss.

Two good things came off the interaction between Peeta and Thread; first, for a moment, there was an expression of utter confusion over the boy's face that indicated to every other man in the room, Peeta had no idea what Thread had insinuated. Second, Thread came across as foul and very much a Stranger who hadn't assimilated to the Saints' way of life, with a sinful mind and nature that did not followed the principles taught in the Bible. 

"Mister Thread, I will not condone that kind of speech in my Colony! What you have suggested sir, is a sin of the worse kind, and I will not allow you to corrupt the minds of our youth!" Boomed Heavensbee looking all of his superior rank of interim governor of Plymouth colony.

After Thread shot him a resentful look, he sat back down heavily, obviously fuming, but Heavensbee continued, "Young mister Mellark has my blessing to propose a betrothal contract to Miss Everdeen. Seeing as he actually lied of the manner in which he had lost his bow in order to give it to her in the first place, I think it rather fitting to marry the lass. If miss Everdeen agrees to wed mister Mellark, then he will be liable for her crime, and charged accordingly in repayment to our laws. Do you understand and accept this decision?" 

"Of course, sir. Sounds reasonable," Outwardly, Peeta sounded more resolute than he felt internally.

"So the marriage is a punishment for the boy then?" Thread laughed from his seat.

Plutarch arched an eyebrow, before reclining in his chair. His voice was placid as he answered. "Not at all. But I do expect a public apology from young mister Mellark to the rest of our community. Mister Cray, please be so kind to have mister Darius bring forth Miss Everdeen, so we can close this case."

"Wait!" Called Peeta, anxiety distilling from his pores with every drop of sweat. "What's to happen to the Everdeen sisters if miss  Everdeen refuses me?" He asked fearing the answer.

"Then, she will be whipped at the post, and sent away. She will be shunned by our colony and so will be her sister if she decides to leave," his words cut Peeta deeply.

If Katniss refused his proposal, he wouldn't be able to help her anymore. He wondered if that point, he'd follow her into the woods, leaving the colony himself. His future was in her hands whatever her decision.

Cray left to fetch Darius and Katniss, and soon she was standing before the large group of men who looked her up and down as if she was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Miss Everdeen," spoke Saint Heavensbee, "you have been brought forth today under the accusation of thievery. After hearing your own testimony, and that of messers Thread and Mellark, we have come to the agreement that you are guilty of stealing from Plymouth Colony."

Katniss bowed her head in shame, her hands clasping Effie's handkerchief for dear life into her fists.

"That said," continued Saint Heavensbee calling her eyes back to his face, "there are two choices for you on the table. Listen closely, and chose wisely, miss Everdeen. Mister Mellark, please proceed." The man said softly.

Peeta swallowed thickly stepping from his pew, feeling like he would be sick all over the floor if he opened his mouth too quickly. He closed his eyes and walked on mechanical legs closer to the front of the room, where Katniss stood ramrod still. Two steps in, he finally opened his eyes,  unexpectedly meeting her beautiful, nervous, gray eyes staring at him; he felt all his fears melt away the closer he strode to those eyes. The more he looked at her, the sweeter, lovelier she seemed.

Of course they would go into this together. Somehow he knew the answer before he asked the question.

"Miss Everdeen, I do not have many earthly possessions, I am not very far in years, but I do have a stable job that allows me to put bread on everyone's tables, and I'm confident I can provide a good home for you and your sister, if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. I promise I'll protect you, watch over you and Prim, I will be your friend and your safe heaven. Anything else, you can name your conditions." His eyes never left her's, not even at then end, when he pleaded on a whisper: "Please, say yes," 

Her eyes widened to comical proportions. "What is the alternative?" She asked quietly so only he could hear.

"Not good," he answered simply in the same manner, looking around nervously.

She barely nodded in understanding.

"I..." Her eyelashes fluttered in rapid blinks, trying to dispel tears and fear, "I accept," she said barely loud enough for the men in the audience to hear.

Peeta smiled brightly at his bride-to-be, but before he could even hold her hand in his as he so wished to do, Saint Heavensbee spoke, breaking the enchanted spell that had fallen on the boy.

"Congratulations to you both, mister Mellark, future mrs. Mellark, now there's the sticky part of the litigation. Our sentencing,"

Katniss frowned not comprehending what was happening.

Heavensbee elaborated, "Since Miss Everdeen chose marriage to mister Mellark, then sentence stands as thus: after a transitionary period of two weeks, following the announcement of the engagement, a wedding ceremony uniting this two souls will be celebrated. In this period, everyone is expected to establish a new familial routine. Mister Mellark will work to build a proper home for his family, while working the communal ovens for a month, in punishment for providing false accounts on how he lost his bow. After that month is due, then he will be dispensed fifteen lashes at the post, for the crime of robbery, on behalf of one Katniss Mellark."

"What?" Cried Katniss loudly. "You cannot do that! He's innocent, he did not do anything wrong! All he's ever done is help me and watch over my sister!"

"Mister Mellark has agreed to the terms, miss Everdeen. Unless you wish to go back on your promise to marry him, this court is adjourned!" Said Plutarch in a hard voice.

"Then I recant! I won't marry him if you punish him for my crimes!" Katniss was besides herself with anger.

"Katniss, no!" Cried Peeta desperately.

"Girl, be quiet and take the proposal!" Barked Haymitch approaching her.

"You will be whipped, if you recant," said mister Odair taking her arm and pulling her aside to reason with her. "Our boy Peeta can take it, lass. He's strong, and he wants to do it, he told us he vowed to God to look after you. It will be much worse if you stop him. Think about it,"

"I... I can't let him do this. I don't deserve it. He's too good!" She sobbed, breaking in tears in front of the few men gathered close to her, for the first time since all that ordeal started.

"Katniss, I don't mind." Peeta said softly, "If I were allowed to take your pain, your sorrow, and your hunger aches for you, I would! with no hesitation. You never have to suffer again. You're God's purpose for my life, the reason I survived that wretched journey. I was sent here to care for you,"

At his words, her eyes flew to his, big and round, astonishment flooding the gray irises.

"You wer... What did you just said?" She asked breathily.

"I asked God to show me my purpose in life, and I'm convinced His purpose for me, was to be here for you? God allowed me to survive a perilous voyage to be your husband?" He asked hesitantly, searching her wide eyes.

She took a stuttering breath, "Alright," she whispered, only looking into his blue eyes, "I will marry you,"

"Finally!" Called Heavensbee loudly, "We will place the bans this afternoon, lets anyone changes their mind again!" He announced pompously. "Mister Mellark, you will be given building materials for a bigger dwelling tomorrow. For now, Ms. Trinket will keep the Everdeen sisters, until the newlyweds have procured themselves more spacious living arrangements. That is all! Return to your homes until supper. Dismissed!"

"Mister Darius, please escort the lady to Ms. Trinket's home if you please,"

"Yes sir." Said Darius, taking Katniss' elbow as firmly as he could, without being too rough. "Please miss Everdeen. Come along,"

"I'll see you later," Peeta said jogging right behind her.

"I know," she responded turning her head as much as she could to look at him once more before being whisked away.

She smiled just barely, and a silly grin took residence in his face for the rest of the afternoon, daydreaming of his wife-to-be, and married life.

 

* * *

 

"Two weeks!" Muttered Effie under her breath crossly. "That's why men, should never be allowed to make desicions on their own!" She snapped dragging the hair brush roughly through Katniss' dark tresses. 

Katniss winced, trying to keep from lashing out herself. It was her wedding after all. Something she had decided didn't want to ever do... Until Peeta that is. 

Prim sat at the foot of the bed, hair already brushed one hundred times, and braided into twin blonde ropes down her back. She smiled impishly at her sister through the looking glass of Effie's vanity- according to the woman, she had to fight tooth and nail to keep it, since vanities were considered... _vain._

 _"_ Why miss Cartwright and mister Smith had been courting for two months, and their wedding isn't for yet another one!" Stilling her hand, she turned to look at Prim, "How many was that, dear?" She asked in a more agreeable voice.

"Eighty three," said Prim in a sweet childish voice.

"No, it was eighty six!" Countered Katniss aggravated. 

"No. It was eighty three, you're counting the passes ms. Effie did over that nasty knot," said Prim knowingly. "Knots don't count,"

"That's right, dear. You are possibly the brightest little girl I've met! Have you ever thought what would like to do for a living when you grow up?" Asked Effie, taking up on her task of one hundred passes over Katniss' hair.

"Mother was teaching me about healing plants. She was the one they took sick people to, back home. Her family in Boston are apothecaries." Said Prim both sad and proudly.

Effie pursed her lips for a moment, thinking. "I guess we could use the knowledge on healing plants. We don't have apothecaries in the colony. Come to think of it, we don't have anyone to look after the sick anymore, really. It will be hard to train you if that's your chosen trade." 

"Oh, Katniss can teach me! She knows all about the plants, and what they're for. Mother taught her too. But she doesn't enjoy blood too much. I don't mind it at all," she smiled, ignoring Katniss' glares from her spot, were she mutely counted her brushes. 

"Oh that's marvelous! Wait until Plutarch hears about it! Of course that means he will be twice more insistent you both work harder than other families. You cannot show vestiges of laziness. How many was that now? We should be closer to one hundred,"

"That was ninety seven," murmured Katniss. 

Three more passes, and Effie's clever fingers was braiding back her hair tightly. 

"I've never been afforded laziness," said Katniss after a moment. Her statement was tired, not biting. "It be nice to have a husband to share the responsibility of a household," she said climbing into bed after Prim. 

"I'm sure it would. I just wished it wasn't so fast. There's too many things that needs preparing and not a whole lot of time," sighed Effie.

"I don't want mister Mellark to get hurt. The closer the wedding, the closer the whipping," said Katniss defeatedly. "Why would he ever agree to that, I'd never know," 

"He's a good man, dear. Just remember that, and remember his sacrifice, when the hard years hit. Because they will come, and you better be prepared," Effie said pulling back the covers to her big bed, which unlike Peeta's rough bag filled with hay and grass on a cot, was an actual piece of wooden furniture with pillows and soft linens covering a fluffy mattress. 

The woman climbed in with the two girls, since even her, with her better accommodations, only had the one bed. She did seemed to own more furnishings than most people, with a table, matching chair, small vanity and a chest of drawers, her home felt cozy. She also owned a round tin tub used both for bath and laundry washing.

"Sleep, girls. Tomorrow we have a big, big, big day ahead of us. We need to find you places to fit into the community, Katniss needs to look into procuring a few furnishings for her new home, and Primrose needs to visit with other families, to see if there are any other trades that peak her interest. It won't be long until you both move into your own house."

 

* * *

  

Felicity Trinket was nothing, but accurate in her predictions. She had raged with Plutarch about the swiftness of the engagement between Katniss and Peeta. She tried to impressed into the whole Colony how fleetingly short was the courtship period they had alloted to the couple, reasoning it was just hardly enough time to properly get to know the person they intended to spend the rest of their lives with, but since the two youth were over the age of puberty, with no parental figures, nor official sponsors, there wasn't much she could do to dissuade either party.

She did take upon herself to teach Katniss all she needed to know about being a wife, even the uncomfortable talks about bedroom duties, that made them both blush, cough and fluster. They also managed to get a decent Hope Chest in the short time, completed with bed linens, table cloths, a few different outfits for both girls, a heavy quilt, and nightclothes for everyone. Since Katniss was orphaned, most of the would be dowry articles filling her crudely constructed chest, were donations from other wives that took it upon themselves to send the new bride to her husband, prepared. 

One man, Dalton Cattleman, who had lost his wife and daughters during their journey to the colonies, even asked what did she still needed to furnished her new home, stating he'd be honored if she allowed him to make her the piece with his own hands. Without thinking, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind: A bed with a proper mattress. In her mind, she had not realized said bed would be shared with her husband and not her sister anymore, so when the old man smiled sadly at her, and nodded in response, she felt shame colored her cheeks. 

"It's alright, pet," offered Dalton understandingly. "I share ms. Trinket's notion, that you haven't have enough time to realize what it is you're about to commit yourself to. I will build your bed, and one smaller one for the little," he sighed looking at the site were a small group of men were helping Peeta build his new house, which was nearly done and ready to welcome it's masters. "Young mister Mellark has been working very hard on the structure of your home. It is up to the rest of us to make sure you youngsters have what you need to succeed," 

Katniss was sure the man was referring at more than mere material possessions, but their actual marriage. It was a wonder how many people had their best interest at heart as starting family, and although it had been difficult for her at first, she was starting to trust this _Saints_ , that seemed so bent on helping them as best as they could, sometimes at their own expense. 

Not for the first time, she felt the need to apologize to the Colony in general, for trying to take food away from them, instead of coming forth, and asking for help openly. 

While Katniss was discovering the goodness in people, learning for the older wives, and even allowing a friendship to flourish between her and a few of the other ladies miss Cartwright had introduced her to, Peeta had been working hard to build a bigger house for him and Katniss to live in as a married couple.

Forseeing the certain probability that Katniss would fight tooth and nail to keep custodianship over Primrose, so he took previsions to built things that would make both girls comfortable; one being a separate sleeping area for himself.

He, unlike Katniss, did not really acquired any worthwhile advice from the other men. No speech on how to be a good husband, or what was expected of him, since most of the men easily forgot how young and inexperienced he was, or the unlikely was that his father had been able to pass down much wisdom at all before his passing in the belly of the Mayflower.

Peeta had been terribly busy all the two weeks leading up to his nuptials. He had worked his punishment in the kitchen without complaint when he was not working on his new house, and what little free time he could afford, he spent sitting with his _fiancée_ , chaperoned by Effie and Prim. 

Interactions between the betrothed couple was stilted, awkward and terribly shy.

The groom-to-be was aware of the strange way his body started to react to his future wife's proximity; the way sometimes he lost his train of thought because he just couldn't stop staring at her eyes or her smile -she had perfectly straight teeth, so white, they reminded him of a necklace of pearls his mother had inherited from a rich, deceased great aunt- he usually found himself mesmerized with the most simple if things about the girl that was to become his wife.

He didn't mind at all the awfulness of the flogging that awaited him as soon as she took his name.

On a Sunday morning, in which he escorted the ladies home from the Chapel were worship service had been held, the two teens were allowed to walk together on their own, with Prim and Effie a few paces ahead of them.

"Peeta," Katniss said quietly, "I... I've inquired about going hunting with the men. But. They wouldn't allow it," she felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes, so she looked away from his earnest face. 

"I... I'm sorry," the way his voice tapered at the end, like it was a question made it sound like a defeated apology. 

It flustered her. Made her feel like blood was rushing to her brain, making it hurt. "It's just... I am scared, Peeta. What if they beat you too badly for what I've done?  There will be no telling how long you'd be indisposed! How am I to feed us all if I can't hunt? You... You should save yourself the trouble and let them punish me instead" She pleaded with him, her eyes finally found his, shamelessly welling up. 

He stopped in the middle of the dirt path shaking his head stubbornly.  "No! What kind of man would I be, if allowed them to hurt you?" His eyes were intense and full of selfless resolve, "Don't you worry yourself about it, Katniss, I will figure something out. I will not leave you with that burden alone. I promise. I will make arrangements for us, I will look after you no matter what, please trust me," he begged reaching a hand to wipe a tear from her cheek, but retracting his hand almost as fast, when a passing Saint widow clucked her tongue in disapproval at his show of affection towards his fiancée.

Instead, he bent over to pluck a yellow flower from the ground. The deep green leaves of the weed that had defied the still cold weather, broke through the frozen dirt, announcing the winter was at its end. To Katniss, the sight of the cheerful dandelion held aloft between the strong, reliable fingers of a baker boy spoke louder than any words he could have utter.

That a mere weed could thrive, looking so lively when men, the pinnacle of God's creation struggled to keep warm, showed her that there was always hope for life even in the harshest conditions. Spring was always near, the sun woul'd shine no matter what, and there were people in this Earth yet, full of compassion, fairness and honor.

She took the proffered flower with a shy "Thank you" holding to the fragile steam as if he had just given her all the riches in the world. Maybe he had, for in that small gesture, he gave her the greatest of gifts: Hope. 

He still tried to reassured her. "I promised you, you'd never go hungry again, and even if I have to hoard all my bread rations, I'll make sure you have at least stale bread to fill your tummy with. God is my witness, you won't ever go hungry again as long as I draw breath. Could you believe and accept my vow?" He asked with sincerity in his deep blue eyes.

"I do. I believe you. And I vow in return to... never doubt you. Or your intentions." 

They smiled at each other and picked up their pace, noticing Effie and Prim had stopped as well, waiting on them.

 

>>\-------->

 

It was the day of the wedding, and although Peeta and Katniss' ceremony was hardly the first one celebrated in the Colony since the Sainst's arrival, the whole settlement was abuzz with activity. 

It was the first warm day of the year, the sun was high and bright, shinning happily over the land; green tufts of grass shot everywhere, albeit uneven and weak, but the sight was a welcomed one that filled the people with cheer and optimism.

"Wonderful day to tie the knot!" Cried out Saint Heavensbee clapping Peeta heavily on the shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, m'boy, I wish I could extend a pardon for your sentence!" 

"Then why won't you?" Asked a man by the name of Beetee Latier, a professor and inventor back in England, who was biding his time to leave Plymouth for Virginia and a bigger, more developed settlement. "If you have it in your power to reverse the edict, then what stops you from it, my dear sir?" He asked over the rim of his spectacles. 

"There, there, mister Latier. I'm here to see that the will of the people is being served, not be swindled by my own personal feelings and desires in its place. A decision was reached with majority of votes for mister Mellark to pay for his brides crimes, and he graciously accepted the price. Nothing else to be done!" Said Plutarch haughtily as he straightened his waistcoat.

Peeta who stood at the front of the meeting hall with the two men, only stared at the floor, trying to calm his nerves that had pitched all the way up to his throat. He had almost forgotten about the flogging himself. He felt suddenly sick with fear.

"Of course something can be done! There's always something else to be done!" Argued Beetee stubbornly.

But the debate was cut short, when echoes of footsteps bounced around the nearly empty house, as the first group of people entered the hall to witness the matrimony. The grew and grew, a current of faces pour before Peeta, dizzying him as some of the older men tried to squeezed in last second advices or congratulatory words. 

He didn't even hear half of what was said to him, too focused on not embarras himself by expelling his breakfast all over himself and the floor. The sea of flashing faces, was morphing into something terrifying, twisting and growing fangs, under red flaming eyes and the oppressing sensation that someone had sat on his chest depriving him of breath, he almost shrieked when suddenly, out of the terrible images, she appear as if from thin air.

Everything went still. 

Time froze for a moment and the cacophony of sound that had his nerves fraying, was muted altogether.

His eyes met her's, and even though she lowered her gaze bashfully when she couldn't hold his any longer, it felt like they were both in a soap bubble. Alone. The rest of the town became part of the background, and it was only the two of them, standing face to face.

She was beautiful! A dress the color of sunset graced her slim figure. There were accents of white ribbons and lace all over her clothes, and her hat was one he recognized as belonging to Effie, that matched the dress perfectly. He could see the way her hair had been gathered into a braid and then twisted into a bun at base of her nape. Her gray eyes were fixed on her hands, one holding a white handkerchief with delicate lace on the hem, the other, squeezing Prim's hand for dear life.

Peeta could see the tips of Prim's fingers turning blue, with how much force she was being held, yet the little girl seemed to understand her sister's nerves, for she never attempted to free her hand. 

And suddenly, the feeling of ethereal timelessness, the calmness that had taken over him upon seeing his bride-to-be so pretty and as nervous as him, was broken, leaving him to choke and gasp as if he had been under water. 

"Miss Everdeen, child! Welcome, welcome. Please come hither," beckoned Saint Heavensbee from his spot by the presiding table at the front. His words had been the thing that punctured the soap bubble into nothing, bringing the  distress of reality back.

Katniss, Prim and Effie made their way to Plutarch, closely followed by a sour looking Haymitch, who scowled the whole way to the front of the room.

"Morning ladies! Mister Haymitch, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't think we'd be seeing you here this fair morning" Said mr. Latier whipping his spectacles clean  with a kerchief. 

"Same to you, mister Latier, Heavensbee... Boy," Responded Haymitch with a nod as Effie made an unnecessary little curtsy, greeting the men herself. 

"I was given the honor to escort the bride to her wedding. I'm told she's supposed to be given away by her father, and apparently I'm the closest thing to that she's got, so here I am," Haymitch gave Ms. Trinket a sideways glare as he explained his presence at the ceremony.

"Wonderful! Very clever Indeed!" Boomed Heavensbee happily. "And now that we are all here, let's review some of the finer details of the proceedings, before we start!" The man took a golden pocket watch from inside his coat, swiping a thick thumb over the face to confirm they were still on time. 

The man explained that he would be part of the attendees, while mr. Latier was in charge of drawing up the document legally binding them as husband and wife. He reminded them of their duties to each other and the colony, and before they knew it, the wedding was in full swing. 

It didn't really take all that long. As everything else in the Colony, the wedding was simple, well structured, and a lot of reciting of the Scriptures. Katniss tried her best to listen to what was being said, but her nerves kept her wound up under a mask of tranquility she didn't feel. If for any reason she happened to catch the groom's eyes staring at her in awe and disbelief, they would flit away in flashes of blue, marking her blush and feel terribly shy herself.  

The two youths had been standing side by side the whole time; knuckles  barely brushing smooth skin of the other's hand in accidental touches that became more frequent each passing minute. And finally, they were asked the question: "Would you take this man/woman, to hold and to care, until death do you part?" 

"I do," they said in turn. 

Mr. Latier instructed them to sign the document before them.

Strangely enough, Katniss had no problem writing her own name in careful, loopy penmanship, while she had to help Peeta trace his. The boy had never had much use for writing words, although he was aware of the correct spelling of his name, which was great help. 

In those days, children were taught to read though, not necessarily write, since the expectation was only to read the Bible without assistance, not write your thoughts down for posterity, unless that was your job. Katniss and Prim's mother however, had tought both skills to be equally important, so she trained her daughters in both. Peeta would have eventually learned to write, providing he stuck to run his own bakery once he was a grown adult. 

Mr. Latier transcribed an account of the event into a leather bound book and had the newlyweds- as well as a few witnesses- sign the book of records. Once the ink had dried, the book was close shut and the scribe stood from the table to  shaken the hands of the new husband and wife, taking his leave with a word of congratulations. 

A small bout of applause erupted from the pews, and the new couple was introduced as " _Mister and Misses Peeta Mellark_ " for the first time to the rest of the colony. 

"Boy, you can now kiss your bride!" Said Haymitch from his seat, a lazy smile taking over his worn face.

Peeta smiled softly, before leaning to leave a feather like kiss on his wife's forehead. He seen men like mr. Odair do the same to their wives when they thought no one was watching. Sadly, the same couldn't be said about his own parents; Peeta never saw that kind of affection at home, but he figured Haymitch had been referring to something alike, so he went for it.

Surprisingly, the gesture elated him.

He felt giddy and even proud of having a wife of his own he could kiss; without realizing it, his hand moved of its own volition, taking Katniss' hand in his, bringing it to his lips. Both of them were caught of guard by the spontaneous motion when the feeling of his lips on the top of her hand registered.

Hey we're both flustered and flushed, neither meeting the other's gaze. 

"Ah, for goodness' sakes! Come childr... er... _Mister and misses Mellark_. Let's collect Mrs. Mellark's Hope Chest, before you officially start married life in your new dwelling," said Effie both flustered and fed up with so much shyness and silly blushings. "Lord knows you two need fresh air to gather yourselves. By the way, young miss Everdeen will be my guest for the night, while you two newlyweds, get your house in order." She gave the youngsters a nudge out the door. 

Heavensbee started to speak, "Mister Mellark needs to report to the post..." but Effie turned around on her heel so fast it made her brother jump backwards almost a foot away from them.

"He will be in his home tonight with his new bride, as the female Saints  had requested. Remember, you men agreed to that concession,"

"Yes, we did indeed!" Said Beetee almost smuggly.

"Very well then, we will see you in the morrow, mister Mellark. May you and the misses, have a pleasant rest of your day." Said Plutarch unfazed. 

Peeta took Katniss' hand in his to place through the bend of his elbow. He extended his free hand to Prim, who did not need any more encouragement than that to take it. Together, they all walked to Effie's, with the woman trailing behind, followed by Haymitch. 

 

 

Katniss' Hope chest was big, heavy and hard to maneuver, even with both Peeta and Haymitch trying to pick it up. Realizing that it would take too much effort to carry it across the small village on his own, Peeta had borrowed a donkey pulled cart, to put the solid wood box on. 

Seeing as there was a cart now involved, Effie ran to Plutarch's house- two doors down from her's- and had the men come claim a round table with two matching chairs. Apparently they were her property, but her brother thought she had too many possessions already, so he took them to _store_ , until she found them a new family to use them.

"Be careful not to scratch the surface. That table is imported mahogany!" She told the men as they loaded the pieces onto the cart to haul them away.

Katniss thanked the woman profusely, and in a rush of affection, hugged her very quickly before the older woman could chastise her for her physical closeness. To her surprise, Effie reciprocated the action, but only for a second, before the both of them push away.

"Come see me if you need help," said Effie at the lack of a better goodbye, and pushed Prim into the house in front her, since the girl had already hugged and kissed her sister goodbye.

 

>>\----------->

 

Arriving to their new house together was strange for the bride and groom. Yes, they had both been there before, toured the two room home together, but there was something to be said about coming to stay for good, and not just to look at it. 

Shyly, Peeta offered his wife his hand and walked her inside. 

"Welcome home, ma'am," he told her quietly, as her eyes darted around the space. The house was more intricately built than Peeta's old shack. He had chosen to make his house with rocks, wood and mud, materials that were both durable and easy to access.

Early on, the-family-man-to-be had decided his house needed a hearth, both for warmth and cooking meals, so he built a humble size chimney, out of stones, mud and straw. It was sturdy, and a few of the other men admired his ingenuity and handy work. He was pleased with himself, thinking of how much easier it would be to keep his new family warm and fed that way. 

The front room was virtually empty except for Peeta's old cot and a small cauldron by the hearth. The the room beyond, had a bed, almost as big as Effie's, with a soft looking mattress and a small desk with a three legged stool, all gifts from various people from the Colony.

"I tried to buy a stove," said Peeta shyly, "It had to be ordered from Virginia, but I didn't have enough coins, for the steep price, and there was no telling how long they would take to deliver it," He said apologetically. "If thought that you would need it, if you and Prim decided to start collecting plants for tinctures and medicinal teas, or anything really. Sorry I couldn't acquire it. I can save some money, and try again in a few months. I can also get you a shelf for your remedies, if that's what you decide you want to do," 

"Would we have enough room for all that?" She asked in amazement. "The hearth is more than enough. Mother used to cook on pyre like fire. We can manage a fireplace just fine!" She smiled gratefully, "We have my chest, and the new table to accomodate, I've never seen so many furniture in just one house!" she exclaimed in amazement.

He pursed his lips for a moment, thinking hard, and then he smiled brightly. "I will build you a shed, and maybe, even a small greenhouse if we can spare the space. I already had plans for an outhouse, but we can rethink that too!" He said enthusiastically. "We will be smart about our alloted land, and we will be successful entrepreneurs, like some of the colonist that have come England are! We are in the new world after all, we can do anything if we work hard for it!" 

She smiled sweetly at him, eyes full of affection, believing every word he said. 

"We will have each other! We will encourage each other in our endeavors!" He finished by pulling on her hand to kiss her knuckles again. This time he did it deliberately, and she allowed him to see her blushing cheeks as she bit down her lip. 

"Alright you two! I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm ready to get away from your dreamy newlyweded faces. You're too sweet for my likings," interrupted Haymitch grouchily from outside. Both of the teens having forgotten he was still there while they talked about their future plans. 

Peeta turned beet red, and strode outside to help the man unload the cart and place the new items into the spots Katniss directed them to. Soon, Haymitch nodded an annoyed head to them, and was gone. Peeta delivered back the cart, and brought home some dried fruit, a loaf of bread and small portion of dry venison strips. 

Katniss had not been idle while waiting. She had run to the stream for a fresh bucket of water that sat inconspicuously in a corner of the bedroom. She had also organized her's and Prim's belongings into two separate piles. She emptied a drawer from a battered dresser someone had given to Peeta, and put all of Prim's things into it. When she had folded everything neatly in place, she turned to her husband, and asked him to put the draw under the cot in the front room.

Puzzled by the request, he peered into the drawer. Still confused, he did as he was told, and then asked from where he knelt before the cot. 

"Katniss, why are we putting Primrose's things out here?" He asked curiously, pushing he drawer deeper back. 

"Well, it would be very awkward to have her come in and out of our private room to change her clothing, don't you think?" She responded, folding her own clothes and stuffing them next to his, in the remaining drawer. 

"I don't understand," he finally admitted. "Do you mean for her to sleep in the cot? Where am I to sleep then?" He asked confusedly. 

"Why, in your own brand new bed, silly," she said with a small giggle. 

"Oh. Well. Where are _you_ going to sleep then?" he asked shakily.

She shuffled out of the bedroom on quiet feet, leaning on the door jamb separating the two areas.

"Where do you reckon I should sleep?" She asked smiling at him. 

His mouth opened, forming the word "I" yet, not a sound came out. He waved his hands around, nervously coming to his feet, he looked at her helplessly, a question in his blue, terrified and confused eyes.

She took a slow deliberate step toward him, her head cocking sideways, her smile softening to something sweeter. She was only a step away from him, "How about we share the bed, as husband and wife? Prim can sleep out here, until mister Dalton can make her a better bed than this cot?" She asked softly. 

Peeta's mouth twitched at the corner. His eyes blinking every other breath he draw. "Is that... Allowed?" He asked uncertain.

"Peeta, we're married. How did you expect things would work out?" She asked in a teasing voice.

"I don't- I'm not sure?" He was so flustered and confused, she felt her heart swell in her chest for him. "Do... wives sleep in the same bed with their husbands, from the get go?" He whispered nervously. 

"They do more than sleep, in fact," she spoke as low as he had, closing the space between them. 

"Like what?" He asked swallowing thickly.

She smiled. "Loads of things," she said, "for example, they caress," she brought her hand to slide her knuckles down his smooth, freshly shaven face, prompting him to close his eyes releasing a shaky breath. 

She leaned into him, "They embrace," at this her voice came in less sure, while her arms rose to hesitantly wrap around his shoulders.

He froze at the contact. His arms stiffened at his sides until she whispered a few inches away from his chest, "Husbands are allowed to do the same, you know," 

And then his strong arms lifted, to clumsily circle around her form as well. He sighed, pulling her closer to him, haltingly leaning his head on top of hers. 

"This is kind of nice," he murmured. "I wonder why the Saints are so set against effusive shows of affection. It's... I don't understand it, it's nice! It's good! Why would God think it otherwise?" 

"I'm not sure, Peeta. Maybe God has nothing to do with the why people act the way they do, or why they reach certain desicions. What's important now, it's that, we get to... Do this anytime we want to," she said curling her hand into his chest, closing her eyes and letting his warmth wash over her, because he was absolutely right: it felt really nice!

"Well, I'm so very glad we married then, if I get to hug you when I very well please to!" He announced squeezing her tighter to him.

She giggled. 

"You know? There's more married people can do together when they're alone," 

He gave a small, nervous chuckle. "Really? Like what? Kissing maybe?" He said it in jest, but she was very serious when she pushed away from his chest, to look into his eyes.

"Well, yes. Kissing is part of it," she said blushing like a tomato. "and more... _involve,_ things," 

Peeta frowned.

Before he could say anything, she stood on tip toe, reaching her hand to cup his face, "Let me show you," she rasped out shakily and touched her lips to his.

It was merely a quick brush, but it stole his breath away all the same. 

"Katniss," he breathed out in awe, "what. Um. Can you, perhaps, show me again?" 

She smiled, and surged back up on her toes, meeting his mouth more fully this time. When she finally fell back on the balls of her feet, he had an expression of disbelief and awe on his face. 

He gawked at her openly, studying her features hungrily. 

"Is that how married people kiss in private, then?" He asked dreamily. 

"Well," she mumbled, scrunching up her nose, averting her gaze as she blush furiously, "They tend to get more... _carried away_ , specially if they think their children aren't watching," 

"Children?" He said hoarsely, "there aren't any of those here," and without warning, he swooped down to capture her face with grabby hands and eager lips. 

He took to the kissing as fish in the water. His thumb caressed her soft cheek up and down, as his mouth and teeth pulled on her lips. He only followed what instinctually felt right and natural, and soon he was suckling on the tender flesh of her lower lip, soothing the little nips from his teeth, with soft swipes of his tongue. 

She made a content sound at the back of her throat. She found kissing, to be even better than hugging. 

They finally ripped their mouths away from each other, sucking air into their lungs desperately. Her eyes danced with mirth.

"Are you sure you've never done that before?" She asked shallowly. 

He nodded, "Never. You?" He asked equally as breathless. 

She shook her head, "Never. I just, walked in on my parents too many times to count," she smiled and turned scarlet in face. 

"Well... We are the husband and wife now. And _I_ get to kiss _you_ like that, whenever I want!" 

She nodded, hiding her giggle into his chest, before saying, "There's one more thing, husbands and wives do when they're alone," she hesitated a moment.

"More?" He asked in astonishment, "What more can ther be that's better than kissing and hugging?" He asked in a pitch so high it was almost a screech. 

"This," she said stepping away from his arms, she pressed the palm of her hand to the place where his heart was hammering to incredible speeds, and let it slide all the way down his center, over his stomach, below his navel and down his manhood. 

His gut reaction scared her a little, when he jerked back colliding with the table Effie had given them earlier that day. His eyes were wide with shock and his breathing pattern erratic and short. The only thing he did, was stare at her while breathing harshly, the tip of his ears burn red, and all the sking along his arms, shoulders and back pebbled in goose flesh. 

"What. Was, _that_?" He choked out.

"Let me show you," she said meekly, "please," she pleaded with her eyes as well as her words. "Wives are supposed to do this things for their husbands too," she tried to explain, without allowing herself to run out of the house, and back into the woods. 

"Katniss..." Her name came out as a low hiss.

He still was looking at her like he had no clue of what to make of her, but she saw the opening, slim as it was, and resolutely grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bedroom after her. 

He followed without resisting, barely picking up his feet. The truth was, he was tingly all over, every single hair in his body standing on point, but the worse part was the member between his legs. It, had suddenly become stuff in his trousers causing him to feel embarrassed, self conscious, confused and scared.

It wasn't like he hadn't felt that way in his pants before, but never to that degree in which his brain was rendered useless, and all he could do was go, as if guided by the tip of his manhood, which happened to be pointing in the direction of his bride, who was quite literally, blushing.

He vaguely remembered hushed conversations between his older brothers and some of the other Strangers in the ship; merely whispers, spoken quietly behind contraband glasses of rum stolen from the sailors, wishing they could feel the warm skin of a lass under their fingers, or the more peculiar wish, feel a lass' wetness with their fingers. He wonder if whatever Katniss was going to show him, was the same thing those older boys had been speaking of.

Once in their private room, Katniss took a calming breath, and turned fast, trapping his face in both her hands while her mouth claimed his.

The kiss was clumsy and half hearted. He was too distracted and she had no idea how to get him to engage her, so frustratedly, she knocked off the wide lip hat he wore on his head, and plunged her hand into his hair roughly, pulling on a hand full of it harshly.

He winced, but the pain made him react and come to his senses finally. But she soon discovered that what she had woken in him, wasn't his mild mannered, friendly self, but a being that was all primal hunger, and insatiable greed. 

Following her lead, he buried his hand into her hair, grunting when the constricted fit of her bonnet got on the way. Releasing her mouth, he worked the thin straps holding her covering neatly tied under her chin, tearing the bonnet off in one motion, causing her hair to tumble down cascading into an ebony waterfall around her lovely face and down her back.  

"By Jove, you are the prettiest thing I have ever set eyes on!" he exclaimed quietly, eyes darting between her's as he admire the woman he was destined to kiss for the rest of his life. 

He lifted a quick, silent prayer of thanksgiving to the good Lord, who had given him such a blessing.

Meanwhile, Katniss was about to lower her face away from his scrutiny, when he dove down to kiss her again, and after that, things only heated up.

"You said we can do more than kissing." He exhaled laboriously against her lips, "Show me. Please..." He begged into her cheek, " _Wife_ ," the word fell from his mouth like honey and spice, warming and filling every inch of her being. 

Of course she would show him. 

She had no idea how was she still standing, because her knees kept giving out, then she realized, his arms were tightly wound around her waist, while his lips were busy with hers.

She knew that next step, was disrobing. At first, she tought she'd be alright with, how hard could it be to lose her clothing before him? But as she was suddenly faced with the inevitability of being naked before a boy, she felt vulnerable, shy and out of bravery.

"I want to show you, but..." She fell silent.

"But what?" He prompted, leaving kisses on her cheeks, eyelids, nose. He was getting bolder the longer he went. 

Absently, she thought, he'd eventually figure it out on his own, if the way he was kissing her all over was any indication of how long he had come, from merely a few minutes prior. She knew men felt the impulses, and her Peeta _was_ a man, he'd realized how to continue without her guiding. She was confident, he'd make her his woman soon enough.

Still, a couple of hints would not hurt anything.

"You can kiss anywhere you want, Peeta. You can caress, and touch every inch of my skin... even the ones under my clothes," her voice was thick and husky.

Peeta took a step back to study her face, make sure he heard her right, and then he was kissing her again. "Show me," he asked into the soft skin of her neck.

Shaking like a nervous leaf, she pushed him away from her. He fell seated on the soft mattress behind him, feeling the thin linens she had dressed the bed with under his sweaty palms, but his mind was too taken with the sight of his wife, how her dark hair moved freely around her every time she moved, and then his breath caught on his throat, when he saw her slender, clever fingers working the row of tiny buttons along the front of her fitted bodice. He was mesmerized, watching every button pop open, as if he had never seen such a thing before.

She struggled with the lace collar of her blush colored gown. He had decided that the color contrasting so beautifully with her olive skin, a warm soft orange, was his new favorite color. 

Finally, she was able to pull the waistband of her skirt around, to undo the button there as well, and then she was able to slowly pull her arms out of the long fitted sleeves of her shirt. 

Peeta's eyes followed her fingers as they move, watching how piece by piece, and layer after layer of clothings, fall off her body one by one, until her entire outfit laid at her feet. He relished the impossible notion, that he was a married man, that apparently was allowed to watch his wife shed her clothes in front of him. 

He was speechless and shamelessly gawking, but she seemed to actually be enjoying herself as she gave him a show. Her features were a dizzying contrast of bashful glances and coquettish smiles. 

She was down to her sleeveless shift and one petticoat she had already started untying. She looked up, to find his eyes dark, fathomless and a little bit intimidating. She dug deep for her voice, and laughed a little.

"Sir, you seem to be wearing too many layers of clothing. Relieve yourself of some, will you?" She said teasingly.

He gave her an appraising sweep of the eyes, head to toe, and lifted himself from the bed slowly, already ridding himself of the dark blue coat he wore, and unbuttoning his white shirt underneath. 

She reached under her petticoat, and rolled down one woolen stocking before repeating the motion on her other leg. Then her petticoat fell from her hips, to puddle around her ankles. 

He stopped to stare at her. For all intents and purposes, she stood before him on the nude. To only wear a shift was as well as naked, and he had never actually seen a woman as naked as Katniss stood in front of him before. His jaw slackened, his hands lost their grip on his last two buttons, and all he could do was just let his eyes rove over his wife.

All that glorious, smooth, delectable skin, displayed to his eyes' pleasure. 

Her shift was comfortably loose around her body, thin and translucent, falling just above her knees. There was the usual little cord that kept the garment close at the collarbone, but it seemed that her's was a little lower than than. 

Without blinking, Peeta snatched away his shirt of his shoulders, forgetting he hadn't finish unbuttoning first, but he had learned how to sewn back buttons on his shirts, he really didn't care. All he knew was that he was supposed to wrap a hand around the nape of her neck, another down her back, and press her lips to his immediately, or something bad was going to happen to him, and he didn't care much to find out what. 

It only took him two strides to reach her.

His hands took a mind of their own, coming and going up and down her back, squeezing her shoulders, twisting in the length of her hair. 

Slowly, she lowered herself to the bed, and he followed suit, until they were sitting side by side, making out like the teenagers they were.

On instict he let gravity pull them both down, so they laid on their sides as they kissed ravenously. His hand sliding up and down her arm softly, but she needed something more to feed her developing hunger. In one swift motion, she brought his hand to her chest, plopping it on her breast without pomp, but with all the circumstance.

He groaned, bitting down on her lower lip mindlessly as he gave a jerky, experimental squeeze. She moaned for the very first time, and he repeated the action to see if she'd do it again. He tore his mouth from her's, to hear the noise better, he squeezed her breast once more, but now he was also licking the column of her throat.

She arched her back, pushing her breast deeper into his hand, releasing a louder, wanton wail. 

"You sound so beautiful," he murmured against her collarbone, meeting the hem of her shift.

Why should he stop his wandering lips, if he could very well pull on a thin cord and the obstruction would fall away? 

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" He groaned as if he was in pain. "Are these... are this your breasts I'm looking at?" He croaked. A trembling hand gently cupped one soft, perky breast. He didn't dare squeeze anymore for fear he'd bruised the delicate skin of her dainty chest. "I've never seen a woman's bosom," He choked out staring in reverence. 

"I wouldn't call it a bosom. A bosom denotes generous size, while I'm rather small..."

"Shh, woman. Tis' my wife you're criticizing!" He chastised.

"Peeta," she protested, "I am aware of what I look like. I'm not very big, nor am I particularly pretty," she said averting her eyes.

"No. You're not pretty," he agreed softly, but before she could make a disheartened gesture or another, he replied easily, as if it was fact and she was not to argue with him, "You are stunningly beautiful. You're eyes and your smile are as radiant as the sun! 

"I don't much care how big your mounds are, or if you're tall at all, I've just never seen anything quite so... _Wonderful_ in my life, as it's the sight of my lovely wife bare and blushing!" His calloused thumb pad circled around the light brown bud in the middle of her modest orb, before actually swiping over it.

She arched her back gasping his name, with eyes tightly shut. His hips buckled towards her involuntarily, finding nothing but air to rub against. 

"God almighty in heaven!" He hissed under his breath. "Allow me to see that again!"

"You shouldn't use the Lord's name in vain, Peeta. You'll go to hell. I want you here, with me." She said breathlessly under heavy lidded eyes.

"I wouldn't call this moment _vain_ , my darling wife. In fact, I actually think it's quite heavenly," and then his mouth, tongue, teeth and fingers were mapping her every contour, making her shake, thrash and release the most delicious noises he had _ever_ heard.

Katniss' hands got busy as well, memorizing the cords of muscle shifting on his back. The feel of his smooth, soft skin. The way his biceps felt tensing and relaxing when he started to shift his position so he was hovering above her. 

One of his hands snaked down her ribcage, finding with glee, he could barely feel her bones at all, realizing he had been holding his breath until he had reached the proof that already, she was becoming healthier. And then, she moved her leg, brushing her shin along his manhood. 

The sensation knocked all the breath out of his ribs. Causing him to topple on top of her, but that was no good either. Her naked breasts only rub on his bare chest, and that too, felt too good. He sat up on his knees. 

All fingers digging into his closed eyes. Trying to keep at bay the explosion he felt forming at his tail bone and running through his body. He sense that if he let the sensation win, then all that they were doing would be over. 

"Katniss," his voice came out unstable, "What. What else, did you wished to show me? I will need to excuse myself in a minute," he said bracing his body weight on a fist, across her body. 

"No. You won't need to excuse yourself," she told him quietly, seating up herself, to caress his face tenderly. She kissed his temple, and told him, "If you are about to do what I think you are about to do, then I'm almost done showing you. Look at me, Peeta. It's alright. _We_ are alright. We're almost there." Her cool fingers feathered along his jaw lightly, until he turned and kissed them.

He looked at her, a question in his eyes. "Are you... sure?" He asked.

She nodded, and pushed back to the middle of the bed, lifting the shift over her head and tossing it on the hope chest at the foot of the bed. She was left in her mid thigh undergarment. Her last piece of clothing. She pulled on one more cord and slid the white material down her legs and tossed them stop the shift.

She was finally completely bare before his eyes, and his eyes appeared to be stuck on the tach of coarse black hair at the junction of her thighs.

Peeta licked his lips, the irises in his eyes eclipsed by his expanding pupil.

When he was meandering along the bowels of the Mayflower, he sometimes encounter groups of men, Strangers mostly, talking about how they missed the feel of the ' _glory mountain_ ', the ' _bushy vale_ ' or how they've wished they could ' _speared the warm caverns of love, to the hilt of their shaft'_ , he now had an idea of what the euphemisms referred about. And remembering one last of those hushed conversations he heard on passing, he doved on top of her, kissing her hard. 

Dragging his lips to her ear, he whispered, "I want to test, if there was any truth, to what the men in ship murmured about. That one could dig the cave of wonders with ones tongue until the treasured fountain of life, breaks free," 

"What ever do you mean by that?" She asked confusedly.

"I'm not quite sure. But I promise I will find out, and I'll be showing _you_ at the same time," He kissed her quickly in the mouth, and smiled a most nerve wrecking smile.

He shuffled back on his knees, the palms of his hands perspiring and clammy; a stuttering breath left his lips when he gently cupped each of her thighs and eased them apart slowly. 

"I'm not... I've never..." He half sighed, half whimpered, his eyes flitted to her's as his right hand fingers creeped towards the curly hairs that intrigued him so much. 

She shivered under his stare. And then he was touching her right there. She gasped at the contact. No one had ever touched her there before, even herself only touched the area to wash up and nothing else.

But Peeta? He was lost in his exploration of her most hidden places. His fingers caressed the top, combed the hair slowly, and found a partition down the middle. His eyes were ribetted to the place his fingers were tickling, he lowered his face closer, to watch better, and experimentally ran a knuckle over it, causing Katniss to cry out loud. 

He sat up startled by her outburst, but she begged him to keep going, keep doing what he was doing. After a few minutes of back and forth reassurances and sweet words, he went back to his explorations.

"I never knew men and women looked so drastically different," he said absentmindedly, returning to run his knuckles up and down her sealed lower lips. And then, he nudge a finger further between them, finding the area damped and warm.

"The... Cave, of wonders?" He marveled breathlessly as he made the connection in his mind. 

He shivered. He had no idea why, but the feeling of his finger coated on her secretions made his member stiffer and achy. He hadn't realized he was grunting as he repeated the motion, sinking the finger another half inch deeper. 

"Peeta," She whined moving her hips upwards. 

Something snapped in his brain, and suddenly he wasn't paying attention to what he was looking at anymore, although his index and thumb had spread the folds wide open for him, all he wanted to do was run his nose and tongue through it, so he did.

She shot off the mattress with a choked up scream, just to fall back down a second later. She couldn't control her jerks, cries or tremors. Somehow her hands were gripping fistfuls of his blond curls, until she managed to yanked his face away from her nether region. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed out shallowly, "Too much..." She explained sheepishly. 

His eyes were crazed with primal, animal desire, he only appraised her flushed skin, swollen pink lips, the panting that made her chest rise and fall, and he knew on instinct to fit his hips into hers, to buck, and rub came next. 

"Trousers," she gasped bracketting quivering fingers to his broad, muscular shoulders. "You need to rid yourself of your trousers. Then you can find out why men and women look so differently." She sighed more than speak, "Husbands are supposed to fit into their wives, bridge the distance, make a whole out of two halves," she breathed harshly, as he fondled with buttons and cords untying his pants and undergarments. 

Peeta managed to free his aroused manhood. Unbiden, a Bible verse he had heard countless times surfaced in his consiousness: " _For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife, and the two shall be one flesh.’ So then they are no more two, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.”_

 _"_ A man... gets to cleave to his wife," he said under thunderous breaths,  crawling back over his wife's trembling form on unsteady arms and elbows, finally reaching down to grasp himself, blindly seeking the entryway he only knew was there waiting for him instinctually. "The two shall be one flesh," He gasped, as the tip of his manhood brushed her warm cleft, "The two shall be. One!" The word was a growl, pushing out air from deep within when he pressed into her, sinking deep in one swoop. 

His head fell to her chest, grunting and fighting for oxygen. The blood rushing in his ears muffled her small whimpers and gasps, but his body was immediately aware of how still and rigid she had become when only a moment earlier she had been writhing under his touch. With great effort, he lifted himself on his elbows, the motion causing their joined area to shift, causing him to mindlessly thrust into her once more. 

Her facial expression made him panic. What he felt as bliss without measure, she seem to contrast in unbearable pain. 

"Katniss. Sweetheart. What... what is it? Did I hurt you?" He panted into her ear, becoming as still as she was.

"I'm, alright. Just, a bit, uncomfortable," she sniffled. 

"You're crying!" He whined wiping a single tear that fell down her cheek. "You're crying, and I can't stay still any longer, I have to move, and I'm making you cry! I'm a terrible husband!" He sobbed, cupping her face into his hands, kissing apologies all over her face, as his hips rolled ever so slightly into hers.

It was a loosing battle for him, she could tell; so she touched the tips of her fingers to his jaw lovingly, "Husband," she called softly, turning his face so they were eye to eye. She smiled faintly, "Do not dare to try to hold back now. The rite of passage is almost over. I will be fine, I give you my word. _We_ will be fine. Let go," her voice was soft, sweet, and encouraging as she repeated herself from earlier.

"You promise it will be alright?" He asked with such vulnerability, it was endearing to her. 

"I swear it will be alright," she kissed his nose since it was the only flesh she could reach with her lips. Then she recited the verse he started, "They are no more two, but one flesh. What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” 

They kissed sweetly, "Together?" He whispered against her lips, still fighting back the urge to sob.

"Together," she responded with a sigh, relaxing under his weight as he took his first controlled thrust.

She believed they would be alright, it was Peeta she had pledged her life and body to after all. Peeta was kind, sweet, good people. She was safe in his arms, he was sent by the God of her mother to watch over them. 

He pulled only a inch out of her, to push right back in, and she exhaled a breath as if his member had pushed it out of her forcefully. 

His movements were erratic and clumsy. He could not keep his eyes open for long, and the sensations building inside of him started to overwhelm him. Soon he buried face into hollow of her shoulder, gripping her hips tightly as he moved. His mouth opened against the skin over her heart, his lips suction creating a tight seal in hopes to muffle down the ravenous noises he made.

She wasn't stiff under him anymore. In fact, she was moaning and gasping with each push and pull of her husband's movements. One hand wrapped around his arm stucked to his sweaty skin, but it was alright with her, she needed an anchor or else, she'd lose herself to the sensations he was eliciting at the place where they were fused together.

She was clenching and unclenching her internal walls around him, squeezing his manhood tightly, and there wasn't much he could do to control his body anymore, other than pivot and thrust, until a tightening feeling ran down his spine, and around his family jewels, and he cried out incoherently into her skin, claiming her as his own, declaring their sacred covenant as husband and wife. His arms shook violently with the effort to keep himself hovering above her as he plunder her harshly once, twice, trice.

Abruptly, his breath hitched, and all movement stopped. A second later, he plummeted forward, spent and breathless.

It took him a moment to regain his bearings. 

She was completely covered by his body, head to toe, lazily caressing his sides with both hands, and miraculously, _humming_!

He didn't recognized the tune, but that hardly mattered. Humming was good! Humming meant contentment! Could it be that she was actually,  _happy_?

He moved up on his arms slowly. Nose nuzzling her temple, and then his eager lips started painting a lazy path down to her lips. His hand splayed on her ribcage while the other toyed with the ends of her hair that fanned wildly around her head. He lifted his face to stared down at her, his heart expanding in his chest, absorbing everything about the moment like a sponge, every tender touch, the shy, sweet smiles, the way she looked under him, tired but peaceful. And before he could think of it, words slipped out of his mouth. "I think I love you," he said softly. "I wish... I wish we could freeze this moment, right now, and live in it forever," he whispered thumbing her cheek sweetly. 

She smiled, "That's fine with me... _Husband_ ," 

"You'll allow it, then?"

"I'll allow it!" 

His smile widened. "Then I count myself a blessed man,  _Wife_ ," he kissed her soundly. 

After coming up for air, a wrinkle formed in his forehead. "So, this,  that we just did. Um... You said, husbands and wives do it often when they're alone?" A small mischievous smirk tugged on a corner of his lips.

She laughed, rolling her eyes, smacking him on the arm playfully. "I guess so," she was blushing furiously, but couldn't stop smiling. 

"Alright. Let's say Prim is home," he peered down at her taking her hand, kissing her clammy palm, "Am I allowed to... I dunno, sneak my hand under your petticoats and... You know... _Have you_?" He asked one part curiosity, one part seriousness and one part badly subdued eagerness.

"Well, mister Mellark! Aren't we greedy now?" She laughed. 

"Oy, I've never been married! I've never experienced the joys of bedding a wife. You can't blame me for wanting you!" He said leaving small, amused kisses across her bare shoulders and neck. 

She chuckled quietly, "You can have me any old time you want, husband. If there was one thing the other wives taught me, was that I'm to make myself available for you, no matter what. It's my wifely duty to you."

"No, is not." He said seriously. 

"Peeta,"

"No, Katniss. Listen to me. I've never had a woman before, and now that I've had you, I don't think it'll ever be possible to stop wanting you, but I need to impress this into your cute little head right now." He took her face in his hands, "You're my wife," he said slowly, "not my slave." He kissed her forehead. "God created the woman from the man's ribs, not his feet, and certainly not his fists! I'm not supposed to stomp on you and your dreams and wants, I'm not suppose to beat discipline and devotion on to your fragile body, but I am supposed to stand next you as an equal, protect you, like my ribcage protects my heart. You are my wife now, and the Bible tells me to love you, to treat you like a flower. So know that you have become my heart, I only want what will make _you_ feel happy, safe and cherished. Nothing else."

Katniss smiled wanly at her husband hovering above her chest. It was her turn to feel her heart expand and suck up his goodness. She reached a hand to caress his face, and he leaned into her touch.

"You are good man, Peeta Mellark. I know, with complete certainty, that _I_ already love  _you_ , deeply and honestly," 

"Good!" Peeta leaned down to kiss his bride tenderly, but as he stretched to do so, his softened member that had remained buried within his wife's depths, gave way, slipping out of her warmth. A rush of fluids followed, creating a pool of juices under her bottom. 

He noticed the disgusted wrinkle of her nose, "Um... Did you happened to feel that as well?" He asked nervously. "Our... _bond,_ was severed,"

"Oh!" She responded distractedly, "Yes. I guess it was bound to happen at some point," she said shifting uncomfortably under his weight. 

He partially moved over, unwilling to let go of her body completely, but the problem was not his weight pressing her down to the mattress, in fact, she quite liked it and felt strangely comfortable with it. What she hadn't expect was the stickyness and grossness of their mingled union dripping down her thighs and backside, especially since the fluids cool down quite fast. 

"I need to clean up," she muttered apologetically, as she nudge off his chest gently but insistently with her hand. "Also, my mother always told newly wedded women that they should relieve their bladder after coitus, to keep their womanly parts healthy,"

"Oh," he said softly, moving off her completely, "I had no idea." 

"It's quite fine. Neither of us knew much about this before now, I guess,"

"You seem to know more than I do," he teased her.

"Only because ms. Trinket made me talk to any, and every wife that crossed our path!" She rolled her eyes remembering in aggravation how embarrassed she had been at first, but the heat of annoyance evaporated quickly, "I guess it did help a lot." She admited with reluctance.

She tried to sit up, not feeling one ounce of shame, when her whole body was exposed to her husband, and he felt no shame either as his eyes traveled down her shape slowly, drinking her in. There was something pleasantly freeing to know they were allowed that intimacy.

But no sooner she had moved her legs over the edge of the bed, an unbiden whimper escaped her mouth. 

Peeta was at her side, pulling her to him in strong arms before she could even register what had happened. 

"Are you alright?" He asked fast, "What is it?" 

"It's nothing really. Common discomfort. It will go away soon enough. Don't worry yourself about it," she promised patting his hands where they rested over her shoulders. "I do need to relieve my bladder real bad, though. There is a chamber pot in my hope chest I still haven't unpacked. Would you be so kind to..."

"Yes! Of course!" Jumping out of bed, he rushed around it, to the wooden box where she kept the small tokens she had collected for their new home, from the older wives in the days prior to the wedding. "It was smart thinking of you to get this. I've never thought to get one for myself," he said rutting around the chest, until he spotted the item and pulled out with a triumphant "Aha!" 

She was on her feet as well, mesmerized by the nude form of her husband. Her eyes couldn't quite decide if they wanted to stare at his naked chest with the dusting of very light blond hair covering it, or between his legs, at the part of his anatomy that had been inside of her, causing a great deal of both discomfort and heavenly bliss. She was just starting to admire his strong legs, when he startled her, by crying out her name in painful distress.

She was confused, she looked up at his face, to find wide, terrified blue eyes, watering and reddening. He leaped over the chest and bed, and picked her up in his arms as if she was a small child. He bounded around the bed again, to sit her down gently on the opposite side from where she had just stood from.

"Peeta what are you doing? You're scaring me!" She said perturbed by his actions and lack of proper words.

"I-I-I don't know what's wrong. But you're bleeding, Katniss. You're bleeding from between your legs, were I was just pounding into you. I think it was my doing! My shaft is also  covered in gore! What did I do, sweetheart? Did I break something inside of you? Is this why you are achy?" He pleaded with her, his eyes wild and scared searching her face for forgiveness.

"Oh, Peeta, no. You didn't do anything wrong!" She said softly, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. 

"How can you say that? I made you bleed!" The first tears fell fast and hot from his eyes. 

She took his face in her hands tenderly, "Peeta, please, listen. You did nothing wrong," she stated calmly, but seriously, "This is as I called it earlier, a right of passage. It means I'm not a maiden anymore, but a married woman. That a man has claimed me as his. You spilled your seed in the depths of my belly, and maybe a child will come out of our joining..."

"A child?" He interrupted, more scared than before if that was even possible. "I didn't mean for you to get with child! Not so soon! I just found you. I just got you! I don't know that I can be a father!" He cried harder, "And how making my wife bleed, after sharing something so wonderful, be a good thing? Is this supposed to happen every time? Because if it is, then I'll never touch again" he was on his knees between her's, shaking his head with self loathing. 

"Darling, you will touch me again. You said it not long ago: you can't stop wanting me now," she smiled trying to tease him, but he only shook his head adamantly.

Suddenly his eyes widened in understanding "You... you _knew_ this was going to happen, and you still allowed me to do it?" He croaked out accusingly. 

Taking a deep breath, she sighed, "Alright, I was fully expecting the pain and the bleeding. It's supposed to happen only the first time, maybe the second time a little, but after that, it should never happen again. Peeta, it's what happens when maid becomes a wife. And about getting pregnant, it's a possibility that I could be with child right now, but it's also not necessarily a reality. If I'm not with child, there are a few ways to get around become pregnant until we're both ready to become parents. Believe me, I won't complain if there's a baby already forming in my belly, I love children, and I would love to give you many of them, because I know, for watching with Prim, you will make an excellent father. But you are right, we just found each other, I would rather spend time getting to know my husband before I have to rise any more children," 

Peeta sniffed, looking past Katniss, to the mess on the bed, before looking away. He was calmer when spoke next, "You should have told me what to expect," he said darkly. 

"Maybe. I apologize for not preparing you for the aftermath. But it will only get better from here on out."

"You promise?" 

"I do,"

He leaned his forehead to hers. "Can we clean up the bed?" He asked quietly. "It makes my stomach queasy," he mumbled nuzzling her neck. "I saw you have extra linens in the chest. By the way, my wife is smarter than me. She got herself a hope chest," his voice lifted at his own jest, ever so slightly, and she laughed, hugging him to her. 

"I will change the bedding, after I've cleaned up. How is that?" She offered.

"Mmm. Can I?" He asked hopefully, "Can I be the one to wash away the mess from your thighs?" 

"Alright. If that's what you want."

"It is," he made her lie down and reaching for the bucket of water she had brought in earlier, she directed him to some rags she had put aside for that purpose, as well as a basin for the dirty water. 

He swipped her clean between her legs, with the outmost care. He gently wiped away every remnant of their first union, and she tried not to wince when he touched a overly sensitive spot. 

The mess was cleaned off soon. He wiped himself down as well, and turned his nose away from the rags and the sheet she had pulled off the mattress once she had used the chamber pot. 

She studied the stains that proved their consummation. It wasn't as bad as he made it out to be. Yes there was blood, but only spots and tendrils of it; the blood had mixed with his seed to the point of saturation. It would wash off easily at least. 

"We should eat," he suggested, looking with longing at the food he had brought. 

"You don't want to have supper with the rest of the settlement?" She asked expertly making their bed anew. "I reckon it'll be supper time soon enough," she said crossing her arms under her still bare breasts. 

"I don't... I don't know, could you stop doing that?" He snapped in a flustered manner.

"Doing what?" She asked confusedly.

"That!" He pointed at her stance. 

"What? This?" She said squeezing her arms closer, making her breast lift and pop up. 

"Yes! That!" He exclaimed, "It's distracting, and... I don't like the way it's making me feel!" He said brattily. 

"Mmm. I think it's the complete opposite, mister Mellark. I think it makes you feel very _happy_ ," 

"Katniss," he said like a father to an unruly child, "I'm warning you," 

"You're warning me?" She teased, letting go of her arms, cupping her breasts instead. "What are you warning me about... _Husband_?" The way she said the word had him ready for her in an instant. 

"Stop it!" He said as he was crossing the bedroom in two strides, wrapping his big hand around the back of her neck, and pulling her to him. 

 

* * *

 

He had her again. 

To his surprise, he lasted twice as long that time and she was really into it as well. When they were done, he scooted down her body, checking for traces of blood, but found only his own release seeping out of her. He found that he rather enjoyed watching that, although she thought it was a little gross. By then, he was extremely hungry, and decided to venture out in public for sustenance. 

They dressed each other, between giggles and small kisses. He begged her to not wear her pantaloons under her many layers of clothing. So he could get to her faster. It made her feel naughty and rebellious, so she agreed. She had never worn so many pieces of clothes when she lived with her parents, one less garment made her feel like she was being her own self. 

They had to walk very slowly, since she was very sore. But they made it to the fellowship hall where dinner was served for everyone, and found seats close to Delly and Darius, who were also readying themselves for their own wedding. Unlike Katniss, Delly had no chaperone other than her little brother, who was only two years younger than Katniss, and more interested in speaking to Darius about _his_ job than anything else, keeping the couple appropriately busy. 

The newlyweds sat so close to one another on the bench, they were attracting disapproving glares from the Saints close by. But Peeta couldn't help it. He really tried to mantain decorum in public, but his hands itched to touch his wife, his arms ached to hold her, and all she could do seeing him struggling like that, was smile demurely, feeling her cheeks warm up. 

"Katniss!" The girlish voice of Prim called, although just a little higher than normal speech, in the stifling silence of the hall full of waiting Saints, sounded as if she had shrieked at the top of her lungs. 

Katniss truly could care less about the judgamental stares they were gaining as she flung her arms around her little sister as if they hadn't seen each other for days, when in reality it had only been a few hours, but much had changed in those hours, much had changed, so the affection was warranted.

Effie joined them, as well as the Odair clan. The experienced people at the table noticed the stilted way in which Katniss moved, and how solicitous Peeta seem to asist her. When supper was served he insisted on getting her and Prim plates, so neither had to walk the few feet over to the tables laden with food. 

The women in the know gave the new wife understanding and sympathetic looks that only made her more uncomfortable.

meanwhile Mr. Odair and Darius pulled Peeta aside, to give him pointers when he made a comment in passing about not really knowing if he was performing his part correctly. The groom listened with eager ears, all the wisdom the men had to offer, and never even tought about the fact that Darius was only two years his senior, unwed and a recently anointed Saint; the man seemed to be wholly knowledgeable about the ways to pleasing a woman, and Peeta wanted to learn how to pay his wife in kind!

A bittersweet thought crossed Peeta's mind, he wonder if his brothers had been as savvy with women as the ginger whispering tips next to him seemed to be; his brothers were older, and half Dutch, they had grown up in Holland, and only gone to England when their mother fell too ill, thinking that bringing her back to her birth place would aliviate her health. 

It did not.

Peeta's mother died a year before embarking in The Mayflower became a possibility for his father. But Dutch people had an stigma of being libertine. It really wasn't the case for the Mellarks, but Peeta would never be able to know that for sure. He was alone in the world, except for his new wife and sister-in-law.

 

When dinner was over, the settlers enjoyed fellowship with others. Peeta tugged on his wife's hand, looping it over his elbow, it was finally acceptable to have that small allowance of closeness, and he craved her touch as air.

A moment later, she yawned tiredly, covering her mouth with a dairy hand, just as Effie taught her; her husband peered at her half concern, half relieved, and patted her hand affectionately, before suggesting they returned home for the night.

One side effect of their new found intimacy, was that Katniss felt drained of energy, while Peeta felt invigorated and full strength. She couldn't understand how was _it_  an even trade, but she didn't stopped him when he asked Darius if he'd escort Effie and Prim home after delivering Delly and her brother to their own abode, it would only take Darius a moment. Effie's home was scarcely three houses down the road from the Cartwright siblings.

To their everlasting relief everyone offered short pleasantries, allowing them to move on quickly, and straight to the exit.

Everyone they encountered seemed so nice and congratulatory, nothing could have prepared either of them to meet a sneering, mean spirited Romulos Thread at the gate, let alone his malicious comments.

"Seems the newlyweds have been busy. Good for you boy!" he said looking at Katniss' stilted movements with malicious eyes. "Kid, take from her all you can, in repayment for what _you_ are doing! Don't be a fool, her kind is nothing but bad news. Nags and liberti..."

Thread didn't get to finish his thought. Peeta was scary fast, it seemed as if in one swift motion he had let go of Katniss' arm, and pushed the man against rough wall off the building, with his forearm pressed harshly against his throat. 

"One more derogative word about _my wife_ , and I swear to almighty God in Heaven, I will beat your mouth until you learn manners!"

Katniss had swallowed a scream, but still a large group of people swarmed the three of them, like bees to their hive.

"Peeta, please. It's not worth it. Please, let's go home." Katniss pleaded, both her hands hanging and pulling from the arm he was using to choke Thread with, trying to loosen it away.

"No, Katniss, this awful man needs to learn to treat women with respect!"

"Come boy. The girl is right. Let the man go. I'll walk you two lovebirds home," said the gruff voice of Haymitch, pushing the younger man away from a gurgling Thread, not even sparing the old bugger a glance.

When Peeta was finally persuaded to let go, Thread double down at his middle, coughing and gasping for air.

"I had him pinned!" Argued Peeta brattily as Haymitch dragged him away. 

"I know boy. _Everybody_  saw. As satisfactory as that might've felt, the point of interest here is, you can't take revenge on your hands. If you kill the bastard, then you'll get an appointment with the noose, and personally, I think getting hung for murdering an impudent idiot, sounds like a poor way to close your wedding day. Go home. Enjoy your evening with your lady. Tomorrow will be terrible enough."

The man left the two at their front door, and went home himself. Only then Peeta noticed how quiet Katniss had been the whole time.

Without caring if people saw them, he put his arms around her until she was flushed with his chest. She was his _wife_ , and he didn't care what fate befall him, his priority was to keep _her_ and Prim safe.

Haymitch was right. Dying for the likes of Thread, would be a terrible way to end his beautiful bride's wedding day. 

"I'm so sorry, darling. I apologize if my behavior embarrassed, or distressed you. I really am." He kissed her on the cheek, as she bunched up the back of his coat in her fists. He walked them both into the house, holding fast to one another 

 

>>\-------->

 

That night, he put into practice every single advice he heard from the older men. 

He sat her on a chair with her legs resting on his shoulders as he worshiped her body with his mouth and hands, over and over again. He looked for the Pearl of pleasure at the apex of her thighs, and the way she moved, gasped desperate for air, while crying out his name in ecstasy made him release his load all over himself. He didn't care. He cleaned them both and carried her to bed were he enveloped her into his body like a protective shield. 

"Why did you accept to marrying me, if you were so dead against me taking your punishment?" He asked into her hair sometime as they lay awake, caressing each other's arms. 

She didn't hesitate with her answer, "I've prayed hard and long to my mother's God, ever since my father died, for someone to come and take care of us, like father used to do," She paused for a moment, thinking of how to say the rest, "A few months before father died, a new Chief ascended to leadership of the clan. Bearded Crane, was untested, arrogant and a bully. Not many people liked him, but nobody contested his leadership, it was his rightful place. He had always looked at mother greedily... mister Thread reminds me of him quite a lot." She shuddered, and Peeta tightened his hold on her.

"It was rumored that Bearded Crane had been jealous of my father for years and years, they were step brothers, you see, my father was next in line to become chief, he was a favorite in the tribe as well, he was one of the top hunters. No one had his skills with a bow and arrow, and the Chief, my grandfather, was fonder of him that my uncle. But Bearded Crane was first born, so he was the heir to grandfather. 

"Then, one day as father was out exploring, he happened to come across a group of white men, they were traveling from New York, back to Boston. My mother was in the group. She was betrothed to this very old man, who could be her grandfather, Corioulanus Snow. Apparently the man didn't care that her parents were there watching, he tried to strike my mother in the face when she spilled tea over some papers he had on the bench they were having their meal served. Father halted the man's hand in mid air as it was coming down to meet her cheek.

"Snow was enraged, called my father any kind of name he could think of, and then screamed he'd kill my mother, even though she had done nothing other than spilling tea. My mother's mother begged my father to take her daughter away from that place, save her from that monster. My mother's father only stood there, frozen, watching. He finally said that if mother ever left, shaming him for abandoning a most lucrative union with mister Snow, then he would considered her dead to him. If Snow killed her after they married, the effect would be the same, but with his honor intact. 

"That night, mother collected her belongings from Snow's tent. She said bitter goodbyes to her mother and brother, and ran away with father, never to see her family again. 

"Naturally, father returned to his home with a white woman, and every men was enchanted with her beauty. She had the softest  smile, her skin was as smooth and fair as milk, and her hair fell in a straight sheet of golden hair down her back all the way to her waist. Prim got her eyes." Katniss said dreamily. "Bearded Crane thought that since he was the future Chief, he should have her. But she chose father instead, making the breach between the brothers all the bigger. 

"When Bearded Crane became Chief, he started sending father into inhospitable territory. Places crawling with dangerous beasts, bottomless pits, and blood thirsty white men. One day, Bearded Crane's evil scheme worked. Father went on a hunt. He never came back." Katniss sniffled, a couple of silent tears slid down her face, but her loving husband's arms were there to comfort her.

After a moment of silent grieving, she continued her story, "A searching party was dispatched, they returned bearing Father's broken bow. Mother was never the same after. 

"Bearded Crane demanded Mother became his wife now that she widowed, regardless of his already existing wife. Mother really couldn't refused nor agree, she was too lost in her grief to function. But Bearded Crane lost patience, after weeks of waiting,  he barged into our hut and shoved me and Prim out, I tried to sneak back in, and was appalled to see him disrobing, and crawling over my mother's  sleeping roll," Katniss shook with anger, hot tears streaming down her face, disgusted and furious.

"It was the first time my mother moved since we received father's broken bow. She kicked and screamed and clawed at Bearded Crane. He kept on going after her, while she fought with all her might, like a trapped animal, until her screams made others intervene. They pulled Bearded Crane off of her finally. She had cuts and bruises all over her skin, her clothes were left in rags, there were ugly gashes where her betrothal necklace and earrings had been ripped from her, but... it was Mother the one who got expulsed from the tribe. It was _her_ who got thrown out by her neighbors. As it turned out, some of the women never forgave her for coming to the clan, stealing the best hunter away from any other would-be-wife, he could've taken.

"She begged, she implored to any one who would hear, but her pleas fell into deaf ears. So we left. Our plan was to travel to Boston, find her family if possible, since they couldn't still be angry at her after all this time. But she fell ill, she wouldn't eat, she wouldn't help with her own care, Prim tried to cheer her up, but she never got over Father's death, she thought we were all doomed. The last thing she did for us, was keep us warm with her own body on the coldest night of that first winter we were left out to our fate. All through the night, I heard her soft whispers as her life faded away slowly. She prayed in English, to her God, she asked He'd send Prim and I a pious soul to watch over us, a person as selfless and kind as Father had been to her all those years ago..."

Katniss turned over in his arms so they were facing each other. "The next morning, Mother was cold as ice, her eyes closed forevermore. I prayed. I prayed for food, I prayed for shelter, I prayed for a good person to watch over us, only guided to it because it was the right thing to do, without seeking anything in return. I prayed for what I had lost. My protectors, my home, my family. And then you came along and stood up for me when I thought everything was lost. You protected me from Thread, and gave me food, and you didn't try to get me to lay with you," 

She started to hiccuping as tears bathed her face.

His own eyes where red rimmed and itchy, he kept his hands skimming the her back chastily, before saying in a roughened voice, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. What happened to your mother, all her life, was awful," his nails traced her skin ever so slightly, "You must have been so scared, so alone. I'm sorry people has mistreat you and Prim so."

She sighed, at peace. She was safe in his arms, protected, loved, cherished, both her stomach and heart were full, and she was warm inside and out. Peeta made all that possible, so she told him as much, "I was scared. I still am most of the time, but, the moment you said you vowed to take care of me and helped me, I knew you were the answer to my prayers, to my dying mother's prayers: a good person, pious, and kind, who would help me save Prim. You are it! That's why I came that night. I refused to die the same way my mother did, as a blanket over starving children, and I knew that if you were the one I had prayed for, so long ago, you would take care of her... of me..."

She fell silent for a moment, the apple of her cheeks turning pink in the weak light of the one candle still blazing over their side table. 

"I know you'll be a wonderful father, because of how you interact with Prim. I want to give you children because I think you will love them as much as father loved us when we were little." She peered up at him, shyly, "About five nights ago, Prim had a nightmare. She wouldn't stop crying. She said she dreamed about father dying at the post. Someone had actually explained to her what it's suppose to happen to you, because of what I did. At first Prim felt  terrible that she had mixed the two events together: Father's death and your upcoming flogging, then she felt worse, because she couldn't remember what Father looked like, and then she felt sad because every time she thinks of the word father, it's _your_ face the one that comes to her mind. 

"You see, _you_ are her new father, and you are wonderful at it. You make sure she's fed, and clothed, and looked after. You will be amazing with our little ones." She smiled shyly at her husband, a slight blush covering her body.

"You think so?" He asked equally shy.

"I know it!" She kissed him on the lips.

"I'm glad we found each other, because if _I_ was the answer to _your_ prayers, _you_ were the answer to _mine_ ," he said, rolling her onto her back, "I asked God to show me what he wanted me to do with my life, and I'm pretty certain," he climbed on top of her, "This, right _here_ ," his knees nudged hers apart, she giggled spreading her legs wide to cradle his hips into her's, "is what God wanted me to do, for as long as I live," he said nibbling on her earlobe, one hand palming one breast, the other tickling her sides lightly, and then he pressed himself ever so slowly, into her. 

Her breath hitched at the sensation, "You. Shouldn't. Be talking. About, that, kind of stuff. Taking. God's name. In vain," she was already panting and gasping, while his lips and hands worked her flushing body. 

In a moment he had encased himself into her heat, he had figured out the way to get her dampness spreading in no time, and _that_ he realized helped quite a lot when it came to their joining. 

It was a wonder, but they were getting better at it, and it had only been one day and one night of practice!

He grunted his approval at the small undulation of her hips, and he responded her previous comment, in a low, husky voice.

"God put you in my life, so I would marry you, make you my wife and mother of my future children that you so kindly are willing to carry. The way I see it, what we are doing here is the will of the Lord, and perfectly alright to praise him for how heavenly it feels to love my wife,"

He moved within her, pushing in and pulling out, unhurriedly, deep and purposeful, kissing and nipping at her collarbone, shoulders, breasts.

She arched her back and made small whimpering sounds that egged him on, her small dainty hands rubbing the small of his back, keeping him closer to her. Her legs draped around his, toes curling into his calves. She kissed his pectorals, the top of his shoulders, his jaw, everything she could reach with her lips as he rocked back and forth into her. 

"Katniss. Darling. Please..." He begged, knowing his released was close. 

"Do what you have to do, my love. It will be fine," she breathed out into his neck.

Instead of picking up his pace, he brought his fingers to her small pearl, and she groan loudly. They were still experimenting with that one, and she already told him she felt a little too sensitive there, but this was a brand new move, and he wanted her to feel as light as he did.

She moaned, "Peeta... Peeta... Oh dear Lord, do not stop!"

"That's it, my love, tell me if this is alright," he murmured in her ear.

"Yes! Oh yes, yesssss!" She arched into him, feeling like had reached the sky, and touched the stars with her fingertips. 

After, when they laid in a mess of knotted limbs and sweaty skin, she mumbled against his chest, "Promise me, you will be fine. No matter what they do to you. Promise me you will come back to me, so we can form a home in which to grow old together," she cried softly into his neck.

"I promise, Katniss, I will hold on to life. I promise, I will bear all punishment, and come out the victor, for I have your love, and the promise of a better future, next to you. My wife," 

 

 

TBC...

**Author's Note:**

> A good deal of the actual elements depicted here have been modified or completely altered, to fit my fic. I apologize to any historians in the audience. I do appreciate history and all it has to teach us, so I'm including a small list of facts and real customs recorded in 1620.
> 
>  **In a nutshell** The Mayflower was a merchant ship, hired by an entrepreneur from the Virginia company to transport the Protestants ("separatists") who called themselves "Saints", to colonized the new world. The Saints wanted freedom to worship as they saw fit without the rule of the Church of England, so they moved to Holland, but the "Dutch way of life" didn't agree with their religious values, so they returned to Britain and then on to the "Colonies". Another ship, the 'Speedwell' was also hired at the time, but it had a leak, so everyone had to squeezed into the Mayflower for the trip. A group of secular merchants with no afinity to the Saints, joined the venture, they were called the "Strangers". The term Pilgrim blanketing both groups, was used 200 years later.
> 
>  **Plymouth Governors** were the maximum authority in the colony, democratically elected into office by their peers. None of them were as flamboyant as Plutarch was here, a case in which I've taken liberties with historical figures. Only government officials performed wedding ceremonies as it was a "civil act" as opposed to a religious one.
> 
>  **Mayflower compact** Was a document signed by the male population aboard the Mayflower (Saints and Strangers), comprising the rules and laws that governed Plymouth Colony, as a form of primitive democracy. Everyone (women included) had equal rights and obligations to the community. I couldn't find which was the actual penalty for stealing, I made it flogging because it's THG. Rape carried the death penalty.
> 
>  **Pilgrim Children** were usually put in foster care at the age of 8, to learn a trade away from their families, since it was believed back then, the actual family would "Love them too much" neglecting their discipline. It wasn't uncommon for orphans to be brought up by foster families. Orphans had the right to chose who they wanted to apprentice with by themselves. In this story, at 15, Peeta was already too old to live with a foster family, plus he already had a trade to live off. The line crossing into adulthood was ambiguous at best for boys. They were considered Men, when they could sustain a family.
> 
>  **Women's rights** Unlike in 18th century England, women in Plymouth Colony, had equal rights to men in accordance to the belief that God created all people equal. Women formed part of juries. Their opinions were heard, taken into consideration, and respected. They could own property separately from their husbands if it was inherited from a previous marriage. Women of marrying age had the right to negotiate, approve and agreed to a betrothal contract without their fathers input... No wonder Effie was offended when Plutarch barred women from Katniss' trial.
> 
>  **Legal marrying age** in 18th century England, the minimum age to marry fluctuated between 12-14 for girls, and 14-16 for boys, all with parental approval and the understanding that consummation would be permitted only after puberty. That said, marrying so early was uncommon. Most brides were over the age of 20 and the grooms averaged 26. Men waited to marry until they had economic stability. In America, the colonists followed this trend as well, until the colonization moved further inland, and a man was allotted more land if he was married. Sex outside marriage was penalized by law, although the penalty for engaged couples was only a 1/4 of that of unattached/adulterous ofenders. All the same, in Plymouth wasn't uncommon for a woman to deliver a full term baby before she had been married for a whole nine months... Sneaky! K and P were orphans and without a tutor, so no parental consent needed.
> 
>  **Haymitch/Squanto** Squanto, is the name of the real life English-speaking Pawtuxet that helped the pilgrims ally themselves with the natives. Again, liberties were taken with historical figure to fit this fic; I'm sure he was nothing like Haymitch.
> 
>  **The Everdeen's tribe** The Seneca are a group of indigenous Iroquoian-speaking people, who historically lived south of Lake Ontario. Today, there are about 10.000 people who belong to the Seneca nation, largely located around New York State. The Senecas were Allies to the Americans during the Revolution, but later lost much of their territory as they were pushed back for the growth of the Cities around them. It's unlikely that an actual Seneca would've met and marry a white girl from Boston in the 1600s, but hey! Fanfiction! By the way, the only reason I chose this tribe, was because Seneca Crane (Bearded Crane) was the corrupt, power-hungry chief of K's tribe. There's no evidence the Senecas were heartless to abandon children to their fate.


End file.
